


Smokescreen

by Minkel23



Category: Captain Planet and the Planeteers
Genre: F/M, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Masturbation, Trish/Wheeler, background Gi/Wheeler, earning that e rating, linka/wheeler - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:35:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24653188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minkel23/pseuds/Minkel23
Summary: ‘Are you not even a little curious?’ Linka asked, and Wheeler stared at her, his eyes wide.‘It’s not... not about being curious,’ he stammered, as Linka stepped closer to him.‘I am curious,’ she said simply. ‘I am very curious.’Wheeler swallowed. ‘Look, Lin- ’‘Tell me you have never thought about it,’ Linka suddenly demanded. ‘Tell me, right now, with complete honesty, that you have never imagined it. If you do, I will never mention it again.’Now, Wheeler’s mouth ran dry.Because he couldn’t lie to her. He could never lie to her.And he has imagined it.Many, many times.
Relationships: Gi/Wheeler (Captain Planet), Linka/Wheeler (Captain Planet)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 15





	1. Maybe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Missgoldy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missgoldy/gifts).



> I’m going crazy in lockdown and figured writing a crazily explicit Linka/Wheeler friends-with-benefits fic would be a good use of my limited free time.

Wheeler was half-asleep in the shade of the trees when he heard someone drop into the sand beside him, gently pushing the hammock he was lying in so that he rocked ever-so-slightly in the breeze.

‘Mmm,’ he said sleepily, half-opening an eye and glancing briefly at his companion.

Blonde hair. Pale skin. Pink lips curved into a smile.

Wheeler couldn’t help himself. He grinned back, opening his arms and pulling her into the hammock beside him. 

‘Yankee - ’ he heard Linka begin to complain, before she clearly thought the better of it. The rest of her words dissipated into the humid island air around them as her body settled next to his, and Wheeler put an arm around her, feeling her reluctance to be close to him fall away as she nestled into him. Her skin was cool against his, and he closed his eyes again, kissing the top of her head.

‘How was the big date?’ He asked lazily, but Linka only sighed, wrapping an arm around his stomach.

For a time they rocked in silence, the air warm around them, the waves crashing on the nearby beach. Wheeler could hear birds in the trees above them, calling to one another, while the sound of their own breathing, deep and regular and even, lulled him into a place close to sleep. Lazily, he stroked Linka’s arm, his fingers moving up and down her skin so that she hummed with pleasure, and he made a concerted effort to half-open his eyes again and bring himself out of this pleasant repose.

‘You didn’t answer my question,’ he noted easily, moving his hand away from her arm to tug playfully on her braid.

‘I did not want to,’ she replied, her voice somewhat mournful, and at that, Wheeler’s eyes flew open. He sat up, disturbing Linka as he did so, concern flooding through him.

‘You okay, Babe?’

She nodded, pushing at him until he was lying back in the hammock, his arm once again tightly locked around her. ‘I was comfortable, Yankee,’ she grumbled in response.

But he knew evasion when he saw it, and disentangled himself again, staring at her.

‘Answer my question,’ he said firmly. ‘Are you okay?’

She sighed. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Of course. I am fine.’

Her voice was light, almost flippant, but Wheeler continued to stare at her. There was a certain hardness to her eyes which worried him.

‘No, you’re not,’ he remarked, returning his hand to her skin and moving his fingers lightly across her arm. ‘I know you, Lin. I know that tone of voice. What happened?’ he asked. ‘Want to tell me?’

‘No,’ she answered shortly, but Wheeler was no idiot, especially where Linka was concerned. She was his colleague and neighbour, a team-mate and friend, the only girl who could out-drink him and out-wit him, and he knew her too well. He could hear the hesitation in her voice. She wanted to tell him... but for some reason, she just wasn’t sure that she should. 

Leaning back, Wheeler changed tact. ‘Fine. Got to say, babe, I’m surprised you’re home so early. Thought your date with Brad... Chad - whatever his name is - might have lasted a little longer.’

She frowned at him. ‘You know what his name is, Yankee.’

‘Todd,’ he agreed, resisting the urge to scowl. ‘The wonderkid.’

Linka frowned again. ‘He is not so wonderful after all, perhaps.’

At that, Wheeler’s blood ran cold. ‘He hurt you?’ he asked instantly. ‘He do anythin’ disrespectful to you? Cause if he did - ’

But Linka shook her head, pulling on his arm so that he once again lay flush against her. ‘No Yankee, nothing like that. He just...’ she paused, meeting his eye and holding it. ‘He ended it.’

For a moment, Wheeler said nothing. Linka snuggled further into him, sighing once more, and instinctively, Wheeler ran a hand through her hair.

‘Idiot,’ he muttered, and she glanced up at him.

‘Todd? Or me?’

‘Todd,’ Wheeler replied, and this time he did scowl. ‘I thought he was an idiot before, you know. This only proves it. So, did he say why he ended it or...?’

Linka’s face was still. To anyone else, it would have been an absolute mask that gave zero away; a beautiful face and nothing more. But this was Linka, Wheeler’s best friend of five years now, and he’d learnt a long time ago how to read her many moods and faces.

‘Spill,’ he told her, his voice firm, although he squeezed her gently at the same time. ‘You’ll feel better if you do.’

Linka’s face fell, the mask falling away, and she chewed on her lip awkwardly. ‘He, umm, told me that I was moving things too... too fast for his liking.’

‘What do you mean?’

Linka’s cheeks went pink.

‘I went to his home tonight to... umm... to sleep with him, Yankee. He turned me down.’

‘What?’ He couldn’t help the disbelief in his voice, or the shocked tone of indignation. ‘Why?’

Linka shrugged, but her cheeks blushed an even deeper shade of red. ‘He does not like sleeping with virgins, apparently.’

Wheeler’s mouth dropped open, and he gaped at her. ‘I don’t even... I don’t know...’

‘It is too messy. He does not enjoy it,’ Linka tried to explain, and he hated that her voice - normally so confident and sure - shook with self-doubt.

‘Idiot,’ Wheeler muttered again, hugging her once more. ‘You’re better off without him, babe.’

‘Maybe,’ she looked down, away from his eyes, but Wheeler wasn’t having any of that. Softly, he ran his thumb under her chin, tilting her face so that she was forced to look him in the eye. 

‘Not maybe,’ he said firmly. ‘He isn’t worthy of you. Not even by half. You understand me?’

She nodded, her eyes brimming with tears he already knew she would never shed. 

Linka never cried if she could help it. Never ever. It was something Wheeler loved about her but also despaired about secretly. It wasn’t healthy, he often thought, for someone to keep so many emotions bottled away. In the early days, when she’d been more like an annoying younger sister to him than anything else, he’d tried to snap her out of it. 

‘Let it all out,’ he’d say to her sharply, pulling all the authority of his eighteen years, but the fifteen-year-old Linka would shake her head vehemently. 

It bothered him then and it still bothered him now. Wheeler knew Linka better than anyone, and even he’d never seen her cry. Instead, she would swallow her tears down with a glass of vodka, just another hurt to internalise and save for another day. 

Sometimes, Wheeler worried what would happen when that day finally came, when all that emotion came bubbling back to the surface.

Without thinking, he held Linka to him tighter.

‘You’re worth a million of him, Babe. A million and more.’

She sighed again in his arms, and he rubbed at her back.

‘I am going to be a... how do you say it? An old maid?’

He laughed. ‘You? Not likely.’

But she frowned, her brow furrowing with frustration. ‘I mean it, Yankee. I am twenty years old, and I have hardly touched a man.’

‘You touch me all the time,’ Wheeler returned without thinking, and felt Linka scowl against his chest.

‘That is not what I meant,’ she replied. ‘You and I... we are just friends. It is not like that between us. I meant...’

But Wheeler cut her off quickly. ‘I know what you meant, Babe. But I meant what I said too. You’ll meet someone. Someone better than  _ Todd.  _ You’re beautiful, Lin. Beautiful, smart, sharp as a tack and the best drinkin’ pal this side of the Atlantic to boot. You’ll meet someone, trust me.’

Linka’s breath came out in a warm rush against his shirt. ‘It is easy for you to say... you meet women all the time.’

He shrugged, a grin forming on his lips. ‘Yeah, but I lose em’ all the time too.’

She met his smile and returned it, and Wheeler’s heart lightened a little to see some of her worry fade away. ‘I am sure that is not their choice, Yankee. Honestly, that last one... what was her name? Cherry? Apple?’

He poked her in the stomach playfully. ‘You know her name, Babe. Clementine.’

‘Ah yes, Clementine,’ Linka dragged out the final syllable. ‘The lovely Clem. She was most persistent. And I thought you liked her too, she was around you all the time - ’

‘She was not,’ Wheeler scoffed. ‘She came to Hope Island... what? Four times maybe?’

‘Ah, but what four evenings they were. You always forget my cabin is next to yours. Clem was... quite the vocalist.’

Wheeler grinned again. ‘Yeah, she was, wasn’t she? Maybe I should call her again. It’s been awhile since I had a girl here - ’

Linka sat up, and now it was her turn to poke him. She wasn’t quite as gentle as he had been with her though, and Wheeler winced when her finger made contact with his ribs.

‘Hey - ’

‘You will not call her again,’ Linka told him. ‘Not after we all spent weeks fielding her calls when you were... what did you tell us? Finished with her?’

Wheeler shrugged easily. ‘That was months ago, and we’ve been too busy working for me to meet anyone else. Clem might be good for takin’ care of some urges, you know?’

Linka shook her head in exasperation, before swinging her legs out from the hammock and using Wheeler’s hand to come to a stand. She picked up her heels from where she’d dropped them in the sand, and stretched irritably.

‘If our friendship means anything to you, find someone else to take care of your urges, please,’ she said wearily. ‘I do not think I can take another evening of  _ Clem  _ again.’

He grinned at her. ‘Tell you what, I’ll make you a deal. You forget that idiot Todd, and I’ll lose Clem’s number, okay?’

Linka sighed once more at the mention of Todd. ‘It is not so easy as that, Wheeler - ’

‘Yeah, it is,’ Wheeler said, his tone more serious now. ‘Tell me somethin’, Lin, are you hurt tonight because you lost Todd or simply because he hurt your pride?’

For a moment, Linka played with the straps of her shoes in her hands, her fingers tapping against the sole as she seemed to consider his words. When she looked up again, there was honesty in her face.

‘He hurt my pride,’ she admitted, and Wheeler grabbed her hand, using her as an anchor to pull himself from the hammock. But he didn’t let go even once he’d come to a stand, and he wrapped his arms around Linka’s waist, looking at her fondly.

‘The guy was a jerk,’ he said easily. ‘But I’m sorry you’re hurtin’, Babe.’

‘It is not just that,’ Linka replied tiredly. ‘I just wish I had more... well, more experience in these things, Yankee. It is tiresome. We work so often that I feel like I am missing out on all the usual experiences a girl of my age should have. I am twenty and still a virgin, Yankee. Men are a mystery to me... the only man I think I understand is you,’ she paused. ‘You are the only one who makes sense to me.’

Wheeler smiled at her gently. ‘You’re the only girl who makes sense to me too,’ he said, before nodding towards their base. ‘Come on... bedtime drink? Gi’s in her cabin with Kenly, but I think Ma-Ti and Kwame might still be up.’

Linka nodded with a smile, and Wheeler looped an arm around her shoulder, walking with her across the beach towards the distant lights of the common room.

‘A few vodkas will clear your head of  _ Todd, _ ’ he scowled again. 

‘Vodka will not take my virginity though,’ Linka bemoaned, before glancing at him. ‘Nor will it take care of your urges either, I should imagine.’

Wheeler laughed. ‘Well, maybe we should sleep with each other after a bottle of vodka. Then we can tick all those boxes.’

The silence that fell was almost deafening, and Wheeler felt Linka stiffen next to him. 

_ Shit,  _ he thought instantly.  _ Fuck. _

‘It was a joke, Babe,’ he said lightly. ‘Just a bad joke.’

Linka nodded, before coming to a stop and staring at him curiously. The mask she normally wore for others was up again, and Wheeler stared back at her, trying to see beneath it to read her mood.

‘It really was a joke,’ he said again. ‘Sorry, Babe.’

‘A joke,’ Linka agreed, but something in her eyes blazed, and Wheeler swallowed, suddenly uncomfortable.

‘Umm, so... vodka?’ he suggested, and then watched as her body relaxed and the mask fell away. She smiled at him, all camaraderie returned. 

‘Vodka,’ she agreed, turning in the sand and walking away from him.

Relief flooded through Wheeler, but it was a relief tinted by a small degree of worry. Because Linka didn’t stop and wait for him like she normally would, and he... well, he didn’t try and take her hand, or put an arm around her waist like he normally would.

Something had shifted between them.

And Wheeler wasn’t sure he liked it. 

As he followed her along the sand, shoving his hands into his pockets, Wheeler decided to clear the air with her later. He loved her too much to let anything damage their relationship. She was too important to him. Too precious.

After all, she was his best friend.


	2. Think About It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins...

The next morning was bright, balmy and busy for Wheeler and the others. Over breakfast, Kwame gave directive after directive, dispensing tasks left, right and centre like some kind of Father Christmas of work and order, and Wheeler groaned internally. 

‘So, Wheeler, you and Gi can reload the geo-cruiser while Ma-Ti and I tend to the bio-domes and vegetable patches. Linka, if you could update our social media and then take care of our correspondence... you can then lunch with us at twelve before we move on to clearing the seaweed from the west side of the island, while Gi? You and Wheeler can lunch at one and then you can take Kenly home while Wheeler rebuilds the doorframe on Ma-Ti’s hut. We can then reconvene at five and...’

Wheeler cleared his throat, trying to catch Kwame’s attention. 

He couldn’t spend the morning with Gi and then the afternoon alone. He still needed to talk to Linka. He needed to make things right with her. Wheeler had tossed and turned all night, worrying over what he’d said to her the night before. He desperately needed to clear the air, and with Kwame’s schedule putting them to work for the next twelve hours on opposite ends of the island, he wouldn’t get a chance. 

‘Look, Kwame,’ he began, mumbling into his cereal. ‘I don’t think this is gonna work for me today.’

Kwame turned to Wheeler curiously.

‘Is there a problem, friend?’ he asked kindly. Wheeler looked up, clearing his throat again. Across the table, Linka was watching him closely, and though her face was set into carefully trained lines of bland disinterest, her eyes were sharp. Wheeler stretched out his legs lazily, before giving Kwame a nonchalant shrug.

‘It’s just that the hinges we need for Ma-Ti’s hut haven’t come in yet,’ he lied easily. ‘And as much as I like burning stuff, smoldering metal is a little beyond my skill set.’

Kwame frowned, clearly dismayed at the interruption to his timetable. 

‘Hmm, that is a problem,’ he remarked, his brow furrowing. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. ‘I know... Gi, if you leave this morning with Kenly, you could pick up the correct hinges for Wheeler before you head home this afternoon.’

Wheeler watched as Gi nodded easily, and glanced at Linka surreptitiously. She was still watching him, her face serious, her eyes narrowed slightly with suspicion. He grinned at her, winking slyly, and she blushed a little and returned his smile, before quickly looking down. 

A new plan in his mind, Kwame had perked up again. ‘Right then, Linka, you can help Wheeler reload the geo-crusier this morning and then update our social media this afternoon while he...’

A wave of satisfaction washed over Wheeler and he sat back, listening to Kwame go over their altered timetable for the day once more. 

He felt a little lighter. Linka had smiled at him, and he had the whole morning with her.

Things between them were going to be okay.

***

They stopped at ten for a break, sitting in the sunshine next to the geo-cruiser, a drink in their hands. Linka sipped at the slightly bitter tea she always drank, while Wheeler drank his coffee, black and sharp against his tongue. Their arms rested against one another, and Wheeler stared at where their skin met, marvelling once more at just how comfortable he felt around this girl. 

He hadn’t liked Linka at first, if he was entirely honest with himself. At fifteen, she’d been unsure and awkward; just a slip of a girl, perpetually quiet and tongue-tied around him. She’d been happy to sit on the fringes of their group, listening and learning, her head tilted to one side, blonde hair curling over her shoulder. She buried herself under bulky jackets and shapeless trousers, and always seemed happiest when with Kwame, who had a similar work ethic to her own. Wheeler, uncertain what to make of her and unsure how to talk to her, mostly left her alone.

No, he hadn’t liked her at first. Not at all.

But by contrast, he’d liked Gi straightaway. 

Gi, eighteen like him and just as sharp and sure, spoke with such a strong sense of mind and heart that Wheeler respected her immediately. But it wasn’t just her personality, or her dedication to her work that called to him... no, Gi carried herself with a kind of confidence that Wheeler found deeply attractive. She was unafraid of speaking her mind and unafraid of showing a little skin and, over time, she began showing more and more of both when Wheeler was present. 

Watching Linka sip at her tea, Wheeler could recall - with startling clarity - the day he’d first  _ noticed  _ her. Really noticed her.

He’d been leaving Gi’s cabin in the early morning, so early that the sky was still a star-sprinkled shade of azure, the rising sun adding dashes of pink and orange here and there like paint streaked across a wall. Wheeler had stretched out his arms, feeling pretty satisfied with life in general, when he’d seen her in the distance, sitting in the sand, still and unmoving. His first response had been to freeze, because he didn’t want to have to explain why he was up so early and where he’d been, before he realised she wasn’t even looking in his direction. Not even in the slightest. Instead, her gaze was firmly set up into the high reaches of a palm tree, and overwhelmed by curiosity, Wheeler took a deep breath, shrugged, and decided to speak with her.

If she asked him why he was up, he’d make up some bullshit excuse, he decided, as he crossed the beach and sank into the sand beside her.

‘Hey, Linka, what are you - ?’

But she clasped a hand over his mouth instantly.

‘Shh,’ she whispered, before using her head to point up.

Wheeler’s eyes travelled up, looking into the canopy of the palm tree, where, nestled under a leaf, sat a tiny yellow and black bird. He looked back to Linka, whose green eyes, he suddenly realised, were sparkling and bright.

She removed her hand from his mouth, before giving him a gentle smile. ‘Bahamas Oriole,’ she whispered, nodding to the bird once more. 

‘Right,’ he nodded back, still caught by her eyes, unknowing and uncaring about what a Bahamas Oriole was or why Linka was so caught by it.

She grinned at him. A cheshire cat kind of grin that spread slowly across her face; one Wheeler had never seen her wear before. ‘It is a critically endangered bird, Wheeler. It is only found in three places,’ she looked up again, shaking her head with marvel. ‘I never thought I would see one myself.’

Wheeler looked up to the bird, before looking back to Linka. ‘How did you even know it was here?’

She glanced at him. ‘I heard him calling. He is a songbird, you know. A species of blackbird really... but with that splash of yellow to set him apart from the rest.’

‘He was callin’?’ Wheeler asked. ‘For you?’

He watched as Linka tried to smother a laugh down. ‘No, not for me... for a mate, Wheeler. He is looking for a female.’

‘Aren’t we all?’ Wheeler muttered, shifting his legs on the sand and stretching them out. Linka looked over at him, resting her head on her elbow and keeping those green eyes locked on his.

Strangely, her piercing gaze didn’t bother him the slightest. In fact, he found he rather liked it.

‘Do you have types of oriole back at home, Wheeler?’

He grinned at her. ‘We have the Baltimore Orioles, do they count?’

She frowned, shaking her head. ‘I do not know that species.’

He laughed, trying to stay quiet for the benefit of their nearby winged friend. ‘Not species, Lin... a baseball team.’

‘Oh,’ she blushed suddenly, her cheeks turning pink, which Wheeler found adorable. ‘I do not know them... or anything much about your baseball at all in fact.’

‘I’ll teach you,’ he said abruptly, without having intended to. 

He didn’t know why he’d made such an offer. But he did know he wanted to get to know this girl a little better, and that he wanted to continue this conversation for as long as he could.

‘I have heard of the Yankees, they are a baseball team, yes?’

He nodded with a smile. ‘Yeah, they are. My team, in fact.’

‘Oh... you played for them?’

He grinned. ‘Nah... I meant I support them.’

‘Oh,’ she blushed again, and something warm lit up inside of him. ‘My English is... how can I say it? I am not so perfect.’

He stared at her, caught again by her green eyes. ‘No,’ he shook his head. ‘Don’t worry. Looks pretty perfect from where I’m sittin’.’

For a moment, Linka seemed to consider him. ‘Yankees...’ she mused. ‘That is like you, no? Yankee.’

He shrugged, tearing his eyes away from her. He took a deep breath, reminding himself firmly that Linka was still only fifteen, green eyes and wide smiles be damned. ‘I guess.’

‘You will have to teach me about this baseball, Yankee.’

‘Sure thing,’ he nodded, still without looking at her.

Wheeler had never been one for complicated emotions or feelings where women were concerned. He’d had girlfriends back at home, and he’d liked them, one he’d even go so far as to say he’d loved, but they had still been simple, easy feelings. His relationships had never been messy, and he was proud of that. He didn’t want them to be messy... he just wanted to have fun. With a start, he realised that he liked this girl. Really liked her. She was cute and she was surprisingly interesting to be around, and he wanted to get to know her better. 

Still, Wheeler had to admit to himself that if she’d been eighteen, he’d probably have tried to sleep with her. He was no saint, after all. Unpleasant realisation crawled up his skin as he realised that he’d never had a female friend in his life who he hadn’t tried to sleep with, at one point or another. So far as he was concerned, a girl was only off-limits if she was taken or the sister of a friend. Otherwise, they were fair game.

Wheeler swallowed with discomfort. He had two female team members here on Hope Island, and he’d already slept with - was still sleeping with, in fact - one of them. He looked to Linka again, back to her vibrant smile and bright eyes and blonde hair glowing slightly with the rising sun, and felt slightly ashamed of himself. 

Perhaps he should be friends with a woman. Perhaps he should be friends with  _ this  _ woman. 

Next to him, he felt Linka shift, coming to a stand. ‘Where you goin’?’ he asked.

She pointed over her shoulder to her cabin. ‘It is nearly sunrise,’ she told him. ‘I should get ready for the day...’

But Wheeler shook his head, tugging on her shorts so that she tumbled back into the sand next to him.

‘Tell you what,’ he said. ‘When the bird goes, we go, okay?’

Linka smiled at him, shifting her body next to his and laying her head on his shoulder.

‘Alright, Yankee.’

Warmth again ran down Wheeler’s spine. Yeah, he liked this girl.

It was easy to fall into a deep friendship with her after that. A little too easy, sometimes. They watched baseball together at first, Wheeler teaching Linka the rules and etiquette of the game. He tried to make her a Yankees fan, but she was adamantly attached to the Baltimore Orioles. 

‘They haven’t won a series since 1966, Lin,’ he’d grin at her, only for her to shrug easily.

‘I do not need another thirty Yankees when I am happy with the one right here,’ she’d thrown back. ‘Besides, victory means nothing, and the birds need me.’

He’d mock her for her that, but still, he bought her an Orioles jersey for her sixteenth birthday, hiding his satisfaction at her obvious delight. She tried it on for him and the others immediately, and Wheeler had averted his eyes when she’d removed one shirt, standing only in her vest and shorts, to pull on the new one. 

Because it turned out that under all those colourless shades and bulky Russian clothes that Linka had quite the figure. She was tall and slim with curves in all of the right places, and looking at her brought thoughts to his mind he really didn’t want to have or dwell on. 

This was Linka. She was  _ his friend,  _ he reminded himself again.

‘How does it look, Yankee?’ Linka had asked, turning for him, and he’d swallowed before meeting her eyes.

‘You’re a babe,’ he’d replied, and her smile had made him glow a little inside. 

After he and Gi had fizzled out, falling back into the work-related friendship where they began, Wheeler dated other women. But he always came back to Linka, came back to walks on the beach and vodka at night and baseball on a Saturday and long discussions about life. He loved her by then. Loved her with his whole heart. 

But not like  _ that,  _ he’d tell himself, over and over.

She was his best friend.

Now, watching Linka drink her tea, he cleared his throat. 

‘Look, Babe... can we talk?’

‘We can always talk, Yankee,’ Linka replied absently.

‘No, no, I meant about... about something in particular.’

At that, she looked to him intently. ‘What do you want to talk about?’

He coloured under her gaze. ‘Umm, look, about last night...’

She sighed, putting her tea down. ‘I knew you would bring this up.’

‘Well, yeah, of course I was going to,’ Wheeler swallowed nervously. ‘I mean, I accidentally propositioned you and - ’

‘Accidentally?’ Linka asked. ‘How do you mean, ‘accidentally’?’

He coloured further. ‘It was just a joke, you know that, right? I didn’t intend to... I mean, I didn’t think and - ’

‘Some people believe in every joke lies a small grain of truth,’ Linka remarked. 

Wheeler stared at her. ‘Well, there wasn’t a grain in mine. I need you to understand that, Babe. I don’t want things to change between us.’

‘You think sex would change things between us?’ she asked innocently, and Wheeler dropped the coffee he was holding, a dark patch forming on the ground beneath them. 

‘Well, yeah!’ he spluttered. ‘Of course it would.’

‘But it did not change things between you and Gi,’ Linka said calmly, and Wheeler’s mouth dropped open.

‘You... you know about  _ that _ ?’ he asked, feeling aghast to his very soul, and watched as Linka calmly nodded, picking her tea back up and sipping at it.

‘Yes, I know about that.’

‘But... but...’

‘Gi told me,’ Linka explained calmly. ‘She is my friend too, Yankee.’

He stared at her, his mouth still hanging open at what he was sure must be an unattractive angle. He didn’t give a shit though about he looked physically at that moment. It was how he looked to Linka as a person that worried him.

‘How long have you known?’ He asked her, and she smiled at him.

‘When you and she broke up,’ Linka told him easily. ‘She wanted to talk to someone... she chose me.’

‘But I asked her not to tell you,’ Wheeler spluttered in disbelief. ‘I begged her not to tell you.’

‘Why?’ Linka asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.

‘I just... I just...’ Wheeler paused, considering for the first time exactly  _ why  _ he’d begged Gi not to tell Linka about them. ‘I just didn’t want you thinkin’ badly of me.’

Linka’s face softened. ‘Yankee, I could never think badly of you.’

His face darkened. ‘You might, if you knew...’ he stopped, shaking his head. 

‘If I knew what?’

He sighed. ‘All the fucked up shit I think sometimes.’

‘But I like how you think,’ Linka returned, and he felt himself relax slightly. 

‘Thanks, Babe.’

Now she sighed, reaching over to take his hand. ‘You do not need to worry about last night, Yankee. I will forget you said anything. Although that is a shame, considering I would like to take you up on your offer.’

Wheeler stopped, every inch of his body freezing.

‘What?’ he whispered.

Linka gazed at him calmly. ‘Your offer. I think it is a good idea.’

‘You... you want to have sex... with me?’

Linka shrugged. ‘I want to have sex,’ she said, sipping at her tea. ‘And I trust you.’

Something inside of Wheeler roared approval of Linka’s words, even as his heart sank. He leapt to his feet, desperate to put space between them.

‘Babe,’ he said, almost mournful. ‘Babe... that’s not who we are.’

Linka looked at him, coming to a stand and crossing her arms. ‘Is it not?’

‘No, we’re friends, Lin. We’re not... not  _ that way. _ ’

‘But are you not even a little curious?’ Linka asked, and Wheeler stared at her, his eyes wide.

‘It’s not... not about bein’ curious,’ he stammered, as Linka stepped closer to him. 

‘I am curious,’ she said simply. ‘I am very curious.’

Wheeler swallowed. ‘Look, Lin - ’

‘Tell me you have never thought about it,’ Linka suddenly demanded. ‘Tell me, right now, with complete honesty, that you have never imagined it. If you do, I will never mention it again.’

Now, Wheeler’s mouth ran dry. 

Because he couldn’t lie to her. He could never lie to her.

And he has imagined it.

Many, many times.

Linka looked at him, stepping closer again, until her body only just touched his. She raised a hand, running it down his cheek, and despite the heat of the day, Wheeler’s skin prickled with goosebumps.

‘Thought so,’ Linka whispered, her eyes gazing at his lips. ‘I thought you had.’

‘Oh, yeah?’ Wheeler breathed, his voice suddenly husky.

‘Yes,’ Linka smiled, before dropping her hand and standing back. ‘Because I have thought of it too, Yankee. And you and I... we are similar, in so many ways.’

Something in Wheeler’s mind began working overtime. She was giving him permission, he realised with a feeling somewhere between joy and shock. He could take her now, grab her hands and push her back and she would let him. He could strip the clothes from her body, kiss her lips and lick her skin, and she would let him. He could fuck her, fast and hard here in the dirt, like he’d secretly imagined so many times, and  _ she would let him. _

He tried to shake the image off. It was wrong. This was Linka. She was his friend.

‘Babe, I...’

‘Have a think about it, Yankee,’ Linka offered, reaching down to collect their cups and brushing the dirt from her shorts. ‘That is all I ask. That you think about it.’

As she walked off, Wheeler felt himself flood with shame. 

He was thinking about it already. But more than that, he had already thought about it, nearly every day for the past five years.

And not once, in any of those daydreams, had he ever turned her down.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter we get some voyeuristic e-content. Fun times.


	3. Perhaps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops. I actually forgot about this fic. This chapter was huge so I cut it into two.
> 
> Btw- I realise I had Kwame with Sam in The Curtain Must Fall but I just love Kwame with my imaginary legal eagle so I’ve transferred him into this story too.

To say Wheeler slept badly was an understatement. All night he tossed and turned, struggling to find a comfortable position and sitting up frequently to punch his pillow into shape. When he lay back down, pulling the sheet up over his chest, he would close his eyes and try to sleep only for one thought, unwelcome and intrusive, to start running through his mind at a breakneck speed, over and over and over again.

_ What the fuck am I going to do? _

With a frustrated growl, Wheeler sat up again, throwing the blankets away and flicking on his bedside light. He ran a hand through his hair and took a drink of water, the cool liquid doing little to ease the turbulent state of his mind.

_ What am I going to do?  _ He asked himself again, before shaking his head and feeling disgust run through him. Because he had already decided what to do, hadn’t he? Linka had asked him to think about it, and he had, long and hard before going to bed. And his decision had felt easy, coming to him quickly and without trouble.

He was going to turn her down.

Of course he was. It was the only thing he could do. Linka was his best friend.  _ His best friend.  _ He couldn’t do... do  _ that  _ with her, he decided. That wasn’t what they were. That wasn’t who they were. He and Lin... they were something else. Their world was laughing together at private jokes and talking long into the night. Their world was taking rambling walks on the beach and watching baseball games at weekends and drinking vodka over home cooked meals. That was their world, and it made him happier than anything else ever could. That’s what they were, he reminded himself firmly. Friends. Just friends.

They weren’t heat and desire, he rationed himself. They weren’t naked skin pressed to naked skin, damp and soft to the touch. They weren’t bitten lips or indentations left on shoulders. They weren’t hands raking through hair or wrists pinned to a bed. They weren’t pleasure and gratification wrapped around one another.

So, why then couldn’t he stop thinking about it?

With another moan of frustration, Wheeler stood, throwing on some clothes. He would go for a run, he decided. An hour or so spent pounding up and down the shoreline would tire him out so he could sleep. Ten miles of sand under his feet and stars above him would clear his mind of Linka and all thoughts of soft skin against his hands and green eyes smiling up at him. 

The night was cool and calm, a light wind blowing in from over the ocean. Wheeler exhaled gratefully, stretching up his arms towards the starlit sky. Another few stretches and he took off, keeping his mind on the curve of the landscape around him, on the feeling of his body exerting itself in exercise.

Would Linka leave him this breathless, he wondered? Would she work him hard and then hold him afterwards, sweat-soaked and gasping? Or would it be gentle with her? Would it be soft and slow and tender, like falling and then being held by a warm pool of water? 

Wheeler came to an abrupt stop, swearing violently. What the fuck had Linka done to him? For a moment, he felt unreasonably angry with her. Everything had been great before she’d brought up the idea of sex between them. Everything had been fine. They’d been friends and nothing more, and although occasionally he’d fantasised about sleeping with her, they had been just that,  _ fantasies.  _ He’d known it would never happen and had been content with that. The idea hadn’t caught hold of him and then tortured him slowly, as it had tonight. 

Leaning over, Wheeler took a few deep breaths, trying hard to be reasonable, both with her and himself. It wasn’t her fault, he told himself. It wasn’t like she was in love with him or anything. Linka was pragmatic and logical. She’d simply decided she wanted to do something and had deducted he was the most logical choice with whom to try it, that was all. She couldn’t help how it made him feel. In fact, had the roles been reversed, he would have come to the same conclusion. Lin had always trusted him, with her friendship and her thoughts and occasionally her life, and it made perfect sense that she could also trust him with her body. 

Her body. Wheeler took another deep breath, trying to ignore the image of long legs wrapped around his waist that suddenly sprang to his depraved mind. He tried to ignore the idea of running a hand down the smooth planes of her stomach, and of pulling one of her pert breasts into his mouth. He pushed away all the images his mind so helpfully provided, locking instead onto just one thought:  _ she’s your best friend. _

He just needed to get laid, he decided. It had been awhile since he’d brought a girl to the island, or taken some time off in New York. That’s why he couldn’t get Linka off his mind. He just needed a depraved weekend with another girl and this problem would clear up easily. Resolution ran through him with a feeling akin to relief. In the morning he would book in some vacation time, call Trish back at home and see if she fancied a dirty weekend in a nice hotel somewhere. Trish was always good for a casual meet-up, and it was something they’d indulged in frequently over the years. Wheeler had always figured that one day, when his Planeteer gig was over and he moved back home, he’d make an honest woman of Trish. They got along well and he could see himself with her long-term. 

Yeah, he thought. Trish would solve this issue for him.

But somehow, the thought of Trish didn’t excite him as it usually did. In fact, if he was honest with himself, on their last weekend together he’d actually spent most of the Sunday thinking about Linka, and what she’d been doing. In between rounds of sex with Trish he’d texted Lin, and it hadn’t crossed his mind that there was anything wrong with that, because Lin knew where he was and who he was with and she was just a friend, after all.

Just a friend. 

Wheeler took another deep breath, before turning and heading back to his cabin. He would text Trish straightaway, he decided, before letting Linka down gently. She would understand, he told himself. She would understand why he couldn’t go down that path with her. 

She would be fine, he told himself. Things would go back to normal, and she would be fine.

And then so would he. 

***

Kwame, dedicated to his role to the point of insufferability, frowned when Wheeler asked for some time off the next morning. 

‘There could be an eco-emergency at any time,’ he said slowly, looking at their calendar, at the blacked out days and crossed through nights. ‘We have so much to do, we really need all hands on deck...’

‘Kwame, I need some time off,’ Wheeler replied, determined to be firm. ‘Come on, I’m not a machine. I’m goin’ crazy here.’

Kwame paused, eyeing him warily. ‘What’s wrong, friend?’ he finally asked, and Wheeler gave a nonchalant shrug.

‘Nothing’s wrong... it's just, it's been awhile since I’ve been home is all. Look, we aren’t that busy. We’ve been quiet this week, in fact. Come on. Do me a favour.’

Kwame stared at him for a moment, before he sighed, going to the calendar and striking through three days with a red pen. ‘Here,’ he showed Wheeler. ‘You can have this coming weekend. Gi has Kenly coming to visit, so he can fill in for some of your tasks.’

Wheeler felt a flood of relief. This weekend. That was good. ‘Great,’ he breathed easily. ‘Thanks, Kwame.’

‘This is not a favour, Wheeler,’ Kwame said, his voice softer now. ‘You work hard. You deserve time off. We all do.’

Wheeler nodded, ‘Thanks.’

‘You will go home?’

‘Yeah,’ Wheeler said. ‘Go and see my Mom. Eat some real food for a time.’

‘We eat real food,’ Kwame replied, his tone sharp once more, ‘Everything we eat we have grown ourselves, and it is nutritious and good and plentiful.’

Wheeler grinned. ‘Yeah, but I’m talkin’ about processed shit. That’s real food to me, Kwame. I wanna eat some pizza and nachos and deep-fried chicken. I wanna go to a baseball game and eat hot dogs and chilli fries. That kinda food.’

Kwame nodded. ‘Ah, I see. Baseball food.’ Suddenly, he snapped his fingers, looking at the calendar. ‘You know, this weekend... if you like, you could take Linka with you. You are right, we  _ are _ quiet this week, and with Kenly here, I could spare her too if the two of you wanted to go to a game together -’

‘No,’ Wheeler said instantly, and watched as Kwame’s face furrowed in confusion.

‘No?’

‘No,’ he said again. ‘I don’t... it isn’t that I don’t want her there, it’s just...’ he paused, deciding to be honest. ‘I’m gonna see Trish.’

‘Ah,’ Kwame nodded slowly. ‘Ah. Now I see. It is  _ that _ kind of a weekend.’

Wheeler stood, feeling uncomfortable. He and Kwame had shared these sorts of conversations before, but never before had shame flooded through him like it did today.

‘You know,’ Kwame carried on. ‘If you ever decide to get... what is the word? Yes, uh, if you ever decide to get serious about Trish, you could always bring her to the island on a regular basis. It works for Gi with Kenly. It works for me and Sam. You could do the same.’

Wheeler nodded, because he already knew that. But although the option was there, he’d never before seized it. He’d brought random dates to the island before, the odd fling here and there - the ‘girlfriend of the month’ club, as Gi had snidely described it - but never Trish, who was always there in the background, a somewhat occasionally serious thing. He’d always told himself it was because Trish was different to the others, someone he one day intended to be more dedicated to, and as such, he hadn’t wanted to mix the two halves of his existence in such a way. But thinking about it now, he knew exactly why he’d never brought Trish to the island. It was because the role Trish played in New York - beyond the sex, of course - was one that was already taken here on Hope Island by Linka. The long conversations, the games and movie nights... they were the kind of things a girlfriend would do. The random flings hadn’t minded Wheeler spending time with Linka in their presence, because they all knew he wasn’t serious about them, just as they weren’t serious about him. But Wheeler suspected Trish might mind, and as such, he kept her in New York, and away from Linka and any awkward conversations that might crop up from such an interaction.

He gave Kwame a weak smile. ‘I’ll think about it,’ he said, knowing full well he wouldn’t. 

‘Good,’ replied Kwame pleasantly. ‘We are growing older all the time. I know we should not think about our lives beyond our calling... but the truth is that one day we will no longer be Planeteers, and we should have lives of our own to return to. You and Trish... it could be a good thing for you, friend.’

‘Yeah,’ Wheeler nodded, although he was desperate for this conversation to be done with, and turned away.

‘I only hope Linka and Ma-Ti one day find companions for themselves too,’ Kwame mused, and Wheeler turned back to him sharply, completely aghast.

‘What did you just say?’

Kwame shrugged. ‘Only that one day, I hope that Linka and Ma-Ti may find companions of their own. They are growing older too and -’

‘But they’re... they’re just kids...’ Wheeler spluttered, outrage running through him, and Kwame frowned at him.

‘They are both adults now, Wheeler. Linka is twenty-one, and Ma-Ti eighteen. They are both grown and -’

‘Grown,’ Wheeler repeated, disbelief in his voice. ‘They’re not... I mean, they’re only _ just  _ adults... they shouldn’t be thinking of that kind of thing yet, and -’

He knew he was being ridiculous. He knew he was being hypocritical. Linka and Ma-Ti were grown, by this point, and no longer the awkward teens who had first arrived on the island. Kwame gave him a long look, before sighing. 

‘It is natural, I suppose, to feel protective of them. They will always feel like our younger brother and sister, and you -’

‘Linka’s not my sister,’ Wheeler interjected instantly, his voice sharp. She wasn’t anything like a sister to him, he reminded himself. A friend, yes, but not a  _ sister.  _ Jesus, the thoughts he’d had about her. Once again, guilt struck him hard. ‘She’s not my sister,’ he said again.

At his words, something in Kwame’s face changed, and he stared at Wheeler again, long and hard.

‘Wheeler...’

But Wheeler turned towards the door, determination suddenly running through him. ‘I need to get back to packin’ those emergency supplies,’ he said. ‘Thanks for clearin’ the calendar for me, Kwame.’

‘It is no problem,’ Kwame replied softly. ‘But Wheeler?’

Wheeler turned back to him warily. Kwame eyed him gently.

‘If you should decide not to see Trish this weekend... if you should decide things should go differently... well, I can always clear Linka’s calendar too. You only have to ask.’

Wheeler nodded, even as he turned away. ‘I won’t.’

But he wasn’t sure if he was telling Kwame, or himself.

***

He found Linka in her cabin, sitting at her desk, writing letters. She was always writing letters, to her Grandmother or to Mishka or to her friends back home, pages and pages full of beautiful cyrillic which Wheeler couldn’t understand, but instinctively knew were full of beautiful words and imagery and ideas. 

Everything about Linka was beautiful, after all. Why would her writing be any different?

He knocked once on the open cabin door before walking in, coming to sit on her desk and watching her for a few moments as she finished the sentence she was working on. He took time to look at her, to really look at her, and was both heartened and dismayed by his reaction to her.

Fuck, but she was gorgeous. 

She was dressed casually, in one of her faded Planeteer shirts, a pair of denim shorts on her legs. She’d pinned her blonde curls up into a messy bun, although a few stray tendrils fell softly onto her neck, and Wheeler couldn’t help but brush one of them from her skin. She laughed at his touch, reaching back to push his fingers away, and as her skin met his he felt a familiar swoosh of pleasure in his stomach.

‘Yankee,’ Linka laughed. ‘Give me a moment, yes? I am nearly finished.’

He nodded, watching as she bit her lip while writing, clearly thinking something out. 

‘Who are you writin’ to?’ he asked her, and she smiled.

‘Gregor,’ she told him. 

‘Who’s he?’

‘An old friend from my village back home,’ Linka replied, putting her pen back to paper and writing another line.

‘Gregor?’ Wheeler asked, trying to sound casual. ‘I haven’t heard of him before?’

‘No,’ Linka said blandly. ‘You wouldn’t have. To be honest, he was more of a friend to Mishka than to me.’

‘Why you writin’ to him then?’ he probed, still hoping he sounded casual.

Linka shrugged. It was a movement that showed off the graceful slope of her shoulders, and Wheeler’s mouth ran dry.

‘He is setting up a...’ she paused, her forehead creasing with thought. ‘I am not sure of the word in English... it is like a committee meeting... but where a particular subject is discussed...’ she frowned again. ‘ _ Simpozium?’  _ she looked to Wheeler with interest, and he grinned back at her. 

‘Symposium, yeah, that’s right. So, this Gregor guy...’

‘He is setting up a symposium on climate change in our village,’ Linka told him. ‘He asked for my advice. I am writing what I can, but I think I should like to go to the meeting too.’

‘Yeah, you should,’ Wheeler said, happier now that he knew Gregor was strictly a professional acquaintance. ‘You’d be great there.’

She smiled up at him, her green eyes sparkling, and Wheeler was momentarily struck-dumb by just how beautiful she was when she smiled. He loved that smile, and loved it more when it was a result of his actions. He made a mental note to make her smile as much as he could in the future.

‘What do you want, Yankee?’

At that, he looked down. 

‘Look, babe, about what we... no, not that... I mean, I want to talk about... well, it’s about us, actually.’

‘Us?’ she asked, bringing her pen to her lips and chewing on it absently.

‘Yeah,’ he swallowed hard, trying his best to ignore how her lips looked wrapped around the instrument. ‘About me and you.’

‘Okay,’ she said slowly. ‘What about us?’

‘It’s just... your offer... look, babe...’

She stared up at him expectantly, and he hated that he was going to have to hurt her. 

‘Yes?’ she asked him.

‘I can’t do it,’ he said bluntly. ‘You and me... we aren’t like  _ that,  _ babe. It’s you and me. I love us the way we are.’ He looked at her almost mournfully, reaching over to run a finger down her cheek. God, he hated to do this to her.

But Linka surprised him. She simply nodded, before looking back to her letter.

‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I respect your decision.’

She started writing again, calmly and without looking back up, and Wheeler stared at her, open-mouthed.

‘That’s it?’ he asked her. ‘You don’t want to... to talk about this?’

She looked back up at him curiously. ‘What is there to talk about? I suggested something, I asked you to think about it, and you have decided to refuse.’ She shrugged. ‘It is a shame, but I cannot force you to do anything, Wheeler.’

‘No, I know, you would never -’ he stared at her again, doing a double take at her words. ‘You think it’s a shame?’

She shrugged again. ‘I told you already, I think it is a good idea. I have thought about it, you have thought about it...’ she trailed off, sitting back in her chair and staring up at him. She crossed her legs, the movement showing the lean muscle of her thighs, and Wheeler couldn’t help but stare at the skin on display. How many times had he imagined those same thighs open and wrapped around his waist? Pulling at every inch of his common sense, he tore his eyes away, only to find Linka looking at him with interest. He flushed a deep red, embarrassed at being caught so obviously ogling her, but she seemed completely at ease with his attention. She shrugged again. ‘Like I said, it is a shame. But your mind is made up.’

‘Yeah,’ Wheeler’s voice was unnaturally high, and he cleared his throat quickly. ‘Yeah. It is.’

‘Can I ask one thing?’ She asked, and he nodded. ‘Why are you saying ‘no’? Is it me? You do not find me attractive?’

Wheeler gazed at her dumbly. ‘No, no, no,’ he said speedily. ‘It isn’t you at all, babe... it’s me. I just can’t see you that way.’

‘What way?’ She pressed him, and he flushed an even deeper red.

‘Sexually,’ he replied, thoroughly embarrassed, and she stood, looking up at him in confusion.

‘But I thought you had already imagined you and I...’ she let her words trail off suggestively, and Wheeler reached out, blindly grabbing the chair she’d just vacated and clutching the back of it.

‘Yeah,’ he admitted. ‘But babe... the difference between fantasy and reality...’

‘Ah, yes,’ she nodded, as though she understood. ‘You mean, you would need to see that I am a sexual person before you could...’ again, her words trailed off and Wheeler’s hands gripped the chair with a bruising strength.

‘I... Babe... it’s only...’ but his words were nonsense, lost to a sudden surge of blind lust at the thought of Linka behaving  _ sexually  _ before him. He had no idea what that would even entail, but his body responded instantly to the mere suggestion of it.

‘It is alright, Yankee,’ Linka said, suddenly soft. ‘I understand. And you do not need to worry. If you cannot see me as a sexual person, that is fine. There must be others who will.’

‘What do you mean?’ Wheeler instantly snapped.

But Linka simply smiled at him, wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him to her. ‘It doesn’t even matter. Come on, let us go and find the others. I can finish my letter to Gregor later.’

‘Why? You got more to say to him?’ Wheeler asked, and this time he didn’t even try to hide the sudden rise of jealousy in his voice.

He watched as Linka smiled again, her eyes drifting from him to the paper on her desk.

‘Perhaps I do after all. Perhaps I do.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Linka tries really REALLY hard to show Wheeler just how sexual a person she can be.


	4. Just for Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m taking this story in a slightly different direction now. Basically I’m throwing some plot at it. I’m sure you’re all very excited about that, lol.

Wheeler was down by the beach with Gi, collecting water samples. It wasn’t Planeteer work so much as one of Gi’s pet personal projects, and Wheeler had helped her out with it pretty much since they’d first arrived on the island. He’d done so at first out of a desire to get to know Gi better and spend time with her, and while they’d been dating, they’d used it as an excuse to fool around during the day away from the others. But after they’d fizzled out, he’d carried on helping her with the project out of a grudging sense of respect and a determination to show her they could still be friends, even after all that had transpired between them. It made him uncomfortable to admit that withdrawing his assistance would almost feel like an admission that he’d used the task as an excuse to get into Gi’s pants and nothing more. And so, he kept going, up to his knees in the still waters of the cove, a vial in each hand and a plastic box of samples strung around his neck like he was some kind of sea kelp Christmas tree.

He wasn’t so much Gi’s research assistant as a glorified lab rack, really.

He must have been scowling into the water, because Gi suddenly shifted next to him.

‘You’re distracted today,’ she muttered without looking up. ‘What’s up with you?’

‘Nothin’,’ he muttered back, still staring into the murky depths beneath him.

‘Yeah, right,’ Gi replied. ‘Spill it. What’s up?’

She still hadn’t looked up and Wheeler shrugged, keeping a tight hold on the box of samples precariously balanced around his neck.

‘It’s nothin’,’ he said again. ‘I’m fine.’

‘Hmm,’ Gi made a non-commital noise, still bent over the sea, an arm sifting through the water.

Wheeler paused. ‘It’s just... it’s Linka,’ he admitted, suddenly desperate to talk to someone. ‘Somethin’ she said last night.’

‘Linka. Okay,’ Gi muttered, her voice flat and head still down. ‘What did Linka say?’

Wheeler bit his lip, wondering just how much he should admit here. ‘She... umm... she asked me to... uh... help her out with somethin’. I said no, and now she’s talkin’ about gettin’ someone else to do it and I... I...’

Suddenly, Gi looked up. ‘You said no to Linka?’ she asked, and Wheeler tried to ignore the shock in her voice. ‘What exactly did she ask you to do?’

He flushed a dull red, and the hint of a smile began to creep across Gi’s face. 

‘Wheeler,’ she said again. ‘What did Linka ask you to do?’

‘Sleep with her,’ he admitted, and he watched as Gi’s smile grew larger, before she shook her head with what sounded to him like a bitter laugh.

‘Good for her,’ Gi remarked, crossing her arms across her chest. ‘Good for her.’

‘What do you mean by that?’ Wheeler asked sharply, and Gi shrugged. 

‘Just that, well, I’m glad she finally had the sense to move things along between the two of you.’

‘What?’

Gi sighed. ‘Come on, Wheeler, admit it. You and Linka... the relationship you have... it’s kind of weird.’

Wheeler stood taller. ‘No, it’s not,’ he smarted.

‘Yes, it is,’ Gi replied firmly. ‘Honestly, it’s creepy the way you bring girls here and take them to bed before waking up in the morning to spend the day with Linka. It’s creepy the way you and Linka are all over each all of the time without being all over each other all of the time.’

‘We’re friends,’ Wheeler protested. ‘That’s not creepy. Fucking hell, Gi.’

Gi shrugged, looking away from him and back to the water. ‘If you want the honest truth, Wheeler, I’m actually surprised you didn’t fuck her years ago.’

His mouth fell open and he stared at her. ‘She’s my  _ friend,  _ Gi. My best friend.’

‘And I wasn’t?’ Gi asked sharply, and Wheeler paused, an unpalatable thought running through his head. 

‘Gi, you and me... we weren’t...’ he sighed. ‘You and I were never friends before we hooked up, you know that as well as I do. Lin and I have been friends for years. It’s different.’

Gi glared at him. ‘You’re so full of shit, Wheeler.’

He glared back at her. ‘Excuse me?’

‘You,’ Gi snapped back. ‘You’re so full of it. This friendship with Linka... I mean, fuck that. You throw the word ‘friend’ around like it means something to you, when actually - where Linka is concerned - it’s just a smokescreen for what you really want to do with her.’

‘For what I really want to do with her?’ Wheeler repeated, his voice rising an octave. ‘You don’t know me, you don’t know what I want from Lin -’

‘For fuck’s sake, Wheeler, honestly?’ Gi’s voice rose too, and Wheeler snapped his mouth shut. Gi was red in the face, her fists tightly clenched, and he’d never before seen her so angry. ‘You think I don’t know? Really? Why do you think I ended us, all those years ago?’

He stared at her. He thought back to the end of their relationship, to that final night, when after hours spent star-gazing with Linka on the beach he’d snuck into Gi’s cabin. Gi had been distant and almost cold, and after an hour of detached sex had rolled away from him, sitting up and pulling a robe around her shoulders. 

‘That was the last time,’ she’d told him with a shrug. ‘It’s just not there anymore.’

Now, he shrugged at her. ‘We just ran outta steam,’ he told her. ‘You got bored of me, and I -’

At that, Gi shook her head at him in disgust. ‘I didn’t get bored of you, Wheeler,’ she told him, shaking her head. ‘I got bored of  _ you and her. _ ’

Her words were like a punch to his stomach and he inhaled sharply. ‘What do you mean?’ he asked her. He waded closer to her, pulling at her hand. ‘Gi, talk to me.’

Gi looked up, and he was shocked to see tears glistening in her eyes. ‘You and I,’ she began unhappily. ‘It was good at first. I really liked you. And you seemed to like me and...’ she paused, taking a deep breath. ‘And then one night it was like a switch flipped and all you could talk about was  _ her.  _ It became Linka this and Linka that. And I love Lin, I really do, she’s one of my best friends and I adore her,’ Gi quickly added. ‘But do you know how it felt, Wheeler, to watch you with her? To see you laughing and talking and giving her all of your free time, and then to watch you sneak over to me for... for  _ that _ ?’

‘Gi,’ he said miserably. ‘I didn’t mean to... I didn’t know... if you’d just said somethin’ to me -’

‘Say what?’ she asked him. ‘What would I say?  _ Oh, Wheeler, I think you might be in love with Linka and that really hurts me  _ -’

‘I’m not in love with Linka,’ Wheeler told her gently. ‘I’ve never been in love with Linka.’

Gi pulled her hand away from his. ‘It’s depressing, you know, how easily you keep telling yourself that.’

‘But it’s true,’ he protested, although he paused suddenly as something, deep inside himself, stirred at her words. ‘It’s true,’ he said again weakly, pushing the feeling down.

‘Okay, fine, you’re not in love with her,’ Gi replied, her voice dull. ‘But you’ve thought about her in a non-friend like way, right?’

He couldn’t help the blood stealing to his cheeks. 

‘Go on,’ Gi goaded him. ‘Tell me you’ve never taken yourself in hand and thought about Lin. Tell me.’

He froze, his mouth somewhat open, unwilling to speak. 

Unwilling to lie to her.

‘Yeah,’ Gi exhaled. ‘That’s what I thought.’

For a moment, they both stared into the water. Finally, Gi sighed, holding out her hand to him.

‘I need a fresh vial,’ she said, and he handed her one wordlessly. After a few silent minutes, he reached over and laid a hand on her shoulder.

‘Gi,’ he said softly. ‘I’m sorry if I hurt you.’

Her face softened, and she gave him a watery smile. ‘You’re a good guy, Wheeler. Really. And things have worked out the way they were meant to. I’m with Kenly now, and I really love him, and I want to see you happy too. All the girls... all the flirting...’ she paused, looking at him pointedly. ‘It’s time for you to grow up a little, you know?’

‘I’m seein’ Trish this weekend,’ he said. ‘I’ve been thinkin’ about...’ he swallowed down a sudden lump in his throat. ‘I’m thinkin’ about makin’ things a little more serious with her.’

Gi stared at him, long and hard.

‘What about Lin?’ she asked him.

‘What about her?’

Gi sighed again. ‘You can’t have it both ways, you know. You can’t have Trish for one thing and Lin for another. Real life doesn’t work that way.’

‘I know,’ he answered. ‘I get that.’

‘Do you?’ Gi looked at him with real interest. ‘How are you going to feel if you move on and Linka does too?’

‘Linka’s not in love with me,’ he replied instantly. ‘She should meet someone else -’

‘She will,’ Gi said gently. ‘Just look at her, Wheeler. Really look at her. She’ll meet someone else. Especially if she wants to.’

He felt slightly sick at Gi’s words, at the thought of Linka with someone else, and he took a deep, steadying breath.

‘If she wants to?’ he asked, a little shakily.

Gi gave him a look that was somewhere between curiosity and pity. ‘You know what Lin is like,’ she told him. ‘When she puts her mind to something... she’s like a squirrel with a nut to crack. And if she’s decided she wants to sleep with someone... and you’ve turned her down... well, she’ll find someone else. And probably quickly too.’

It was another punch to his stomach and he had to take a deep lungful of fresh air to quell the nausea.

‘She wouldn’t - it isn’t like her to...’

But Gi gave him a pat on the shoulder. 

‘Wheeler,’ she said gently. ‘She would.’

***

Later that week, Wheeler knocked on Linka’s cabin door after dinner, hoping to get a private word with her. For the last few days something had been off between them, a distance in the air when they spoke, and he hated it. He hated feeling distant from her, hated feeling like he didn’t know her, like she wasn’t the Lin he’d grown to know and love over the last few years.

He just wanted her back. He just wanted things to go back to the way they’d been, before all this talk of sex between them had come up.

‘Come in,’ Linka sang out, looking up at him briefly from her chest of drawers when he walked in. Wheeler went to her bed, sitting on the end, and she smiled at him before going back to shuffling through random items of clothing. 

‘What’re you doin’?’ he asked her, and she frowned ever-so-slightly, raking through singlets and shorts and vague hints of lace that made him blush when he realised it was her underwear.

‘Looking for something,’ she answered absently. ‘I bought a swimsuit recently over the internet... but it has a fault, and I need to return it.’

‘A fault?’ he queried her, and she nodded.

‘Yes, well,’ she paused, looking up at him and blowing a stray hair from her eyes. ‘Maybe not a fault so much as a design flaw,’ she smiled at him. ‘I would have to show you for you to understand.’

‘Okay,’ he replied. He didn’t get involved where women and fashion were concerned. He knew better than that.

‘Are you alright, Wheeler?’ Linka asked abruptly, looking at him closely and he shrugged. 

‘Just restless is all.’

‘Mmm,’ Linka nodded. ‘Kwame says you are leaving tonight. You have a weekend at home.’

He froze. ‘Uh, yeah.’

‘You are seeing Trish?’ she asked him, and his eyes snapped up to hers, looking for judgement or criticism or, God help him, even the smallest hint of jealousy. He knew that Linka was good at masking her feelings, but he also knew he was good at reading her too, and he stared at her for a few moments, searching for how she truly felt.

But her eyes were as clear of guile as usual, green and sparkling in the afternoon light, and he relaxed slightly.

‘Yeah,’ he admitted softly. ‘I just wanted to say goodbye before I left.’

Linka gave him a small smile, before looking back to the clothing before her. ‘You must say hello to her for me.’

‘I will,’ he said, all the while knowing he wouldn’t. ‘Listen, Lin, before I go, about what you said -’ he began, just as Linka made a happy sound.

‘ _ Ponyal _ !’ she exclaimed, triumphantly holding up a scrap of white fabric in her hands. ‘There, I found it!’

He grinned at her. ‘What is that? A handkerchief?’

She grinned back at him. ‘No, Yankee, do not be silly. It is a bikini.’

He gaped at her, and at the tiny triangles of fabric in her hands. ‘But that... that wouldn’t cover a tea cup, let alone your...’ he trailed off, realising with horror that he was gesturing to the ample curve of her chest. He blushed horribly, looking down quickly. ‘Fuck, look, what I meant was -’

‘It covers everything,’ Linka said, suddenly indignant. ‘I have tried it on, and it would be perfectly decent for the beach.’

He bit his lip, trying to push down the image of Linka on the sand, the tiny bikini barely hugging her flesh.

‘So keep it then,’ he replied harshly, without meeting her eye. 

‘Maybe I will,’ she replied just as snappily.

For a moment they stood in silence, Wheeler unhappy and miserable at how this conversation was going, confused as to the torrent of feelings within himself. This wasn’t how he wanted today to go. This wasn’t how he wanted to feel.

Expelling a deep breath, he suddenly moved towards Linka and wrapped his arms around her. She smelt of salt sea-air and clean shampoo and he kissed the top of her head, pleasure spiking in his belly when he felt her burrow into him.

‘Sorry, Babe,’ he whispered. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.’

‘I do,’ she whispered back. ‘It is me... I have made things awkward between us...’

‘No, no, that’s not -’ he stopped, kissing her on the head again. He could never lie to her. ‘Maybe a little.’

She nodded against him, sighing against his chest. ‘I am sorry, Yankee. I really am.’ She looked up at him, her eyes wide, long lashes bristling against her cheeks when she blinked. ‘Things are normally so good between us.’

He sighed too, running a hand through her hair. ‘Yeah.’

‘I should never have brought up sex,’ she whispered, but he shook his head.

‘It wasn’t you, Babe. I’m the one who made that joke and -’ he took a deep breath. ‘Can we go back to the way things were? Before... that?’

She went still in his arms, and he looked down at her in worry. ‘Babe?’

‘Do you really want to?’ she asked him quietly. ‘You really want things the way they were?’

‘Well, yeah,’ he said, and watched as she bit her lip. ‘Don’t you?’

She pulled her arms from his waist and shrugged, moving over to her bed and sitting on it elegantly. ‘I think it must be easy for you,’ she said, sounding nervous and shy. ‘You can go back to the way things were easily, because you do not find me... how did you say it? Sexy?’

He stared at her. ‘You’re sexy,’ he told her instantly. ‘You are. You’re gorgeous.’

‘You do not mean that.’

‘I do,’ he argued, and felt a tremor run down his spine at the realisation that he meant every word. ‘You’re beautiful, Lin. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.’

‘Really?’ she asked, playing with a strand of her hair, and she looked so small and vulnerable, so open and sweet, that he couldn’t help himself from sitting next to her on the bed and pulling her next to him.

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘You are. It’s just that, in my eyes...’ he paused. ‘You’re sexy but I just can’t... I can’t bring myself to...’ he sighed deeply. ‘I don’t even know,’ he admitted. ‘I’m fucked up, Lin. You’re sexy and yeah, I’ve pictured you in ways I probably shouldn’t have, but the thought of actin’ upon that...’ he ran a hand over his eyes tiredly. 

Next to him, he felt Linka soften. ‘Oh, Yankee...’ she exhaled. ‘I do not want you to feel like this.’ Briefly, she laid her lips against his forehead, cool and soft against his brow, and he leaned into her show of affection, pulling her closer.

‘Babe...’ he whispered, suddenly feeling warm all over. His skin sparked at her touch, and in that moment he wanted nothing more than to hold her closer, to feel more of her skin against his.

But she pulled away from him gently.

‘We can go back to the way things were,’ she assured him, ‘I promise.’

And with that she stood, looking down at the bikini in her hand. Wheeler pushed down a quell of disappointment, before also standing, licking his lips and nodding to the scraps of white in her fingers.

‘So, tell me, what’s the problem with it?’ he asked, hoping desperately to change the subject and divert attention away from the wounded puppy expression he was almost certainly sporting. 

Linka blushed. ‘I told you, it has a design flaw.’

‘What?’ he asked, intrigued by the stains of pink in her cheeks.

‘It, ah, it...’ Linka paused, biting down on her lip for a moment. ‘It is fine for sunbathing, but when it, uh, gets wet...’

‘Yeah?’ he pressed her, not just intrigued but downright curious now.

‘It becomes... uh, transparent,’ Linka said quickly. ‘The white fabric... when I come out of the sea... I might as well be wearing, umm...’ she glanced up at him shyly. ‘Uh,  _ plastikovaya upakovka? _ ’ 

‘I don’t know that one,’ Wheeler admitted, scratching his head.

Linka blushed again. ‘It is the clear plastic wrap people use on food... it is bad for the environment... we try to make them use beeswax instead...’

As the penny dropped, Wheeler’s mouth dropped open.

_ ‘Saran wrap?!’  _ he exclaimed, looking down at the bikini once more. ‘You mean you get in the water with that thing on, and...’

Linka looked down. ‘I might as well be wearing nothing at all.’

For a moment, Wheeler’s mind struggled to follow the conversation, caught as it was on the image of Linka, in her white bikini, emerging from the ocean, the four triangles of fabric rendered translucent by the clinging water. His mouth inexplicably began to water, and he opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to speak.

When his mind did catch up with the conversation, when he found he could speak once more, Linka was staring at him, her eyes searching.

‘Yankee, are you...?’

‘I gotta go,’ he said abruptly. He spun on his heel to leave, only to feel Linka lay her hand on his arm.

‘We can be friends again, can we not?’ she asked him quietly, and he stared at her fingers on his skin, trying to take deep, cleansing breaths.

‘Yeah,’ he finally said, mentally giving himself a shake. ‘Yeah, course we can, Babe.’

She nodded, and he sighed, before reaching over to kiss her on the forehead.

‘I should get goin’,’ he muttered. ‘Want to get home before it gets too late, you know.’

Linka nodded. ‘Trish will be waiting for you?’

He swallowed down an uncomfortable ball in his throat. ‘Uh, yeah.’

Linka nodded. ‘You will have a good time,’ she decided. ‘And when you come back, on Monday, we will have a visitor. Something for you to look forward to.’

At that he stopped. ‘A visitor?’ he asked, automatically suspicious.

‘Yes,’ Linka answered, a slow smile spreading across her face. It was the smile he loved, but tonight something in him rebelled against the idea that  _ someone else  _ was causing it.

‘Who?’ he asked, a sharp edge to his voice.

‘Gregor,’ Linka said happily. ‘I told Gaia about his letter and the symposium and she suggested that Gregor come visit us here so he can see first hand our work.’

Wheeler’s stomach dropped. Linka looked happy. A little too happy for his liking.

‘This is a good thing, Yankee,’ Linka carried on. ‘It makes me feel as though I can help my village back home in a positive, hands on manner. You will be... kind to Gregor, yes?’

Wheeler nodded mutely. 

‘Thank you,’ Linka hugged him quickly. ‘Now go, you will be late. I will see you on Monday.’

He nodded again. When he looked down, Linka was still clutching the bikini in her hand. He gestured to it.

‘Gonna send that back then? The saran wrap bikini?’ He paused. ‘You don’t want Gregor gettin’ the wrong idea about Planeteer work, do you?’

Linka laughed, before something crossed her eyes and she looked down at it, seemingly considering the garment in her hand, as though seeing it for the first time. That same slow smile spread across her face, and Wheeler felt deeply uneasy. ‘Actually,’ she said lightly. ‘I think I will hang onto it.’ She smiled at him again. ‘Just for now.’

  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The white bikini makes an appearance again, don’t worry.


	5. Appetite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have 4500 words of Wheeler getting laid in apology for the fact that I keep forgetting about this fic.

New York was the same as ever, a heaving, pulsing, tangled mess, and sex with Trish was much the same. She met him at the airport, throwing herself into his arms, and Wheeler kissed her hard on the tarmac, gripping her to him. They didn’t make it to dinner or the bed and breakfast he’d booked upstate, checking into an upmarket airport hotel where he divested Trish of her clothing before taking her hard on the bed.  _ Yes,  _ his mind thought in the throes of sex,  _ this is just what I needed.  _ Afterwards, lying in an exhausted post-coital heap, Trish grinned at him.

‘What was  _ that  _ all about?’ she asked him, and his stomach sank, willing his mouth to keep shut and not say the name that instantly sprang to his mind.  _ Linka. _

‘What do you mean?’ Wheeler shrugged. ‘I just missed you.’

‘I missed you too,’ Trish replied happily. ‘And I’m gonna miss you more now knowing you’ve got  _ those  _ moves in you.’

He gave her a weary smile back, lying against the clinically white pillows and sighing.

‘When have you gotta go back?’ Trish asked him, rolling onto her side to look at him. ‘I was thinkin’ on Sunday night you could come to my place and we could try this new Mexican place that -’

But Wheeler shook his head. ‘Can’t,’ he cut her off. ‘Gotta be back by Sunday night.’

It was a lie, for Kwame had cleared Wheeler’s calendar until Monday evening. But Wheeler knew that Gregor was arriving Monday morning, and for some reason, he didn’t want Linka’s penpal getting comfortable on the island - and comfortable with Linka - without him there. Swallowing, Wheeler ran a hand across his eyes, trying once again to push Linka from his mind. 

He wondered what she was doing.

He wondered if she missed him.

He wondered if she was wearing that white bikini.

With a growl, he rolled on top of Trish, who grinned up at him.

‘Hey,’ she said fondly. ‘I’m glad you called me.’ Abruptly, she ran a hand down his cheek. ‘I’m glad you set this up. I’m glad you made time for me.’

At her words, Wheeler felt a pang of guilt and shame rise up inside of him. Trish deserved better than this, and better than him. Sighing, he kissed her softly. He loved her, he really did. He loved how vibrant she was, how warm and how full of life. Trish was perfect for him, in so many ways. Cut from the same cloth, they were. They understood one another, and had so much in common that conversation never stilted between them. Perhaps he  _ should  _ make things serious between them, Wheeler suddenly thought. Perhaps it was time to cut all the bull shit and make plans for the future. He loved Trish, he knew that without a doubt. So why couldn’t he make that leap of faith with her? What was holding him back?

But again, he wasn’t being honest with himself, because he knew exactly what was holding him back. A pair of green eyes and a lilting Russian voice calling him Yankee under a sky full of stars. 

With an exasperated groan, Wheeler rolled off of Trish, pulling himself out of the bed and wrapping a nearby towel around his waist.

Trish looked at him curiously. ‘You goin’ somewhere?’ she teased him.

‘Shower,’ he said, standing taller. ‘You and me... I’m takin’ you out for dinner,’ he took a deep breath. ‘A date, right?’

Something in Trish’s eyes lit up, and in that moment, Wheeler really and truly hated himself.

‘A date?’ she asked him. ‘I thought we were just...’ she trailed off, indicating to the mussed up sheets around her. ‘I didn’t know you were thinkin’ of -’

‘Well, I am,’ Wheeler replied, a little too quickly. ‘Let me get cleaned up, okay? And then we’ll get something to eat somewhere.’

As he stood under the warm spray of water, Wheeler wondered exactly what he was doing here with Trish. Never, in their years of fooling around, had he ever asked her on a date. It was something that was implicitly unsaid between them, that they had sex without the trappings of a relationship. He was too busy, too caught up in his work to be serious about anyone, he’d always told Trish. And she’d accepted that, just as she’d accepted his off-hand remark that one day he’d return to New York permanently, and by default, to her bed too. What was he doing? He wondered to himself as he rubbed shampoo into his hair. What did he want here, really?

Another lie to himself, he realised, as he held his head under the water to wash the suds away. He knew exactly what he wanted here. He wanted to push all thoughts of Linka, his best friend, from his mind. He wanted to forget her and the feelings she’d aroused in him by losing himself in another woman. 

It wasn’t fair to Trish, he realised, leaning his head against the tiled wall tiredly. He couldn’t do this to her. Resignedly, he went to shut off the water, and confess all to her, when the bathroom door opened and Trish walked in. She smiled as she dropped her own towel, opening the door to the shower and wrapping her arms around his waist.

‘Room for one more?’ she asked, and he stared at her.

‘Umm, Trish, look -’

But Trish had already sunk to her knees, and Wheeler’s mind went blank.

*** 

Trish was all smiles over dinner, and Wheeler ordered a second bottle of wine, taking deep breaths and trying to enjoy a rare night away from work. He was in the company of a pretty woman who loved him, they were eating good food, and the conversation was easy, flowing well between them. He had nothing to be miserable about. And yet, in the back of his mind, was the nagging discomfort that he didn’t  _ really  _ want to be there. 

Where he really wanted to be was on the beach with Linka, playing baseball. Where he really wanted to be was in the kitchen of Hope Island, drinking vodka with Lin while they talked about anything and everything.

Where he really wanted to be, Wheeler acknowledged with a nervous swallow, was in Linka’s bed, making good on his offer to sleep with her.

_ Shit. _

His face must have dropped, because Trish suddenly cleared her throat.

‘You okay?’ She asked him, and he sighed.

‘Just caught up on somethin’ from work,’ he said. ‘Can’t quite let it go.’

Trish nodded. ‘Everythin’ okay back on the island?’

He nodded. ‘Yeah, it’s just that...’ he trailed off. ‘Kwame talked recently about the future. About what’s gonna happen when we get too old for the job and give up our rings.’ 

He saw an impatient flash in Trish’s eyes and chewed on his lip. She was waiting for that day, he knew. But the flash just as quickly faded as it appeared, and Trish nodded slowly.

‘Is that gonna happen sometime soon, you reckon?’

He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Gi and Kenly are gettin’ more and more serious, and Kwame has been talkin’ for awhile now about wantin’ to be closer to Sam.’

‘Right,’ Trish said.

‘If one of us goes, I guess we all do,’ Wheeler carried on, feeling a small, sharp stab of pain at the thought.

‘Right,’ Trish said again. ‘So, tell me, when that happens, what about you?’

‘What about me?’

‘What are you gonna do? Where are you gonna go?’

He looked up sharply. ‘You know the answer to that. I’ll come home. Get a job. Settle down. The usual thing.’

‘And am I part of that?  _ The usual thing _ ?’ Trish asked.

‘Of course,’ he said, but there was a sharpness to his voice which they both heard. Trish stared at him.

‘What’s up with you, Wheeler?’ she asked slowly. ‘The sex earlier... askin’ me on a date... you’ve been like a yo-yo today, up and down and all over the place.’

He paused, staring into his glass of wine. ‘I told you, it’s just somethin’ at work.’

Trish stared at him with wide eyes, putting down her glass. She cleared her throat. ‘And would that  _ somethin’  _ be a blonde Russian, by any chance?’

Wheeler’s head snapped up, shock written clearly across his face. ‘Lin and I...’ he garbled helplessly. ‘We’re just  _ friends.  _ You know that.’

‘No,’ Trish said bluntly. ‘No, I didn’t know that. I did wonder.’

‘Why would you...?’

Trish sighed. ‘You talk about her all the time. You message her constantly. Whenever you talk to me about your work, every second sentence has her name in it.’ Trish looked down, brushing an invisible crumb from the table. ‘I know you, Wheeler. I know your needs. When you moved to that island, you almost instantly started up with Gi. And then when you finished things with her, you started visitin’ me and havin’ all those other girlfriends and it's okay, there’s no judgment here,’ Trish nodded firmly. ‘I know we have an unspoken agreement; that we can have our fun now and that we’ll settle down in the future. But Linka... I don’t know, I’m always...  _ wary  _ of her. Whenever you talk about your colleagues, you mention their girlfriends and boyfriends. You talk about Kwame and Sam. You talk about Gi and Kenly. You even talked about Ma-Ti and that girl he met... where was it? New Zealand?’

‘Papua New Guinea,’ Wheeler corrected her blankly.

‘Yeah,’ Trish nodded again. ‘But with Linka, where other people are concerned, there’s radio silence from you Wheeler. It’s like she’s your friend, and nobody else’s. You’re quietly possessive over her, Wheeler, and that makes me nervous. So, yeah, I did wonder.’

‘I’ve never slept with her,’ Wheeler spluttered, and Trish raised an eyebrow at him.

‘By that, did you mean  _ not yet _ ?’ she asked. ‘Because that’s the feelin’ I’m gettin’ from you right now.’

Wheeler didn’t say anything. He simply sat, feeling as though all of his chickens were coming home to roost. He licked at his lips, wretched and unsure, and he heard Trish sigh beside him.

‘Come on,’ she said, coming to a stand.

‘You leavin’?’ he asked, somewhat miserably, and she smiled at him reassuringly.

‘With you,’ she assured him. ‘We’re goin’ back to the hotel. Let’s get back to the thing we’re best at, right?’

He stared at her. ‘You still want to... with me... after what we just talked about?’

Trish nodded, looking at him honestly. ‘Look Wheeler, you’re an attractive man, and I love you. I do. And you know I love you too, and I think you might love me, even though you’re not ready for... well, whatever comes next. But I know one day we’re gonna end up together. It’s just the way things are meant to be, right? You don’t have a background like us, a story like ours, and not end up together in the end,’ she added firmly. ‘So, we’re gonna enjoy our weekend the best way we know how. And you’re gonna go back to the island on Sunday, and start...’ Trish paused. ‘Well, you’re gonna start lettin’ go of the thing you’re holdin’ onto, okay? And I don’t care what that is, or how you do it, because I know that in the end you’re always gonna come back to me, right?’

He stared up at her, his mouth dry.

‘Right?’ she said again, more sharply, and he exhaled, low and long.

‘Right,’ he agreed. ‘Right.’

***

On Sunday, he arrived back on Hope Island late, when everyone else was already in bed or getting ready for it. When he parked the geo-cruiser, Kwame was outside waiting for him, a confused expression on his face. 

‘Wheeler, you are back early?’ Kwame asked, even as he quickly embraced him.

Wheeler grinned at him. ‘Yeah. Never can stay away from this place for long. Why aren’t you in bed?’

Kwame pointed to the geo-cruiser. ‘It was my turn to man the radio waves this evening. I heard you coming in and thought there might be something wrong, given you were not meant to be returning until tomorrow night.’

Wheeler shrugged again. ‘Like I said, I missed you all.’

Kwame gave him a keen look. ‘Um, how was the, uh...  _ food _ ?’ he asked, tactful as ever and always the gentleman. ‘Did you have a good weekend?’

Wheeler nodded. ‘Yeah, the food was, uh,  _ plentiful. _ ’

It was the truth. Trish, either with a point to prove or stake to claim or perhaps a bit of both, had taken him to bed on Friday night after their unfinished date and not released him until just a few hours earlier that day. He’d half-walked, half-staggered back to the geo-cruiser. The sex had been good, enthusiastic and plentiful... though, Wheeler hated to admit, it had also been somewhat unsatisfying. He’d left Trish knowing he’d had enough sex to get him through the worst dry spell, while also feeling vaguely unsated. 

He wasn’t going to lie to himself this time. He knew why he’d been disappointed by his weekend with Trish. Taking her to bed had been like trying to slake an appetite with salt when he’d wanted sweet. It wasn’t her fault, and he loved her as he always did, as he probably always would. He loved her, but he didn’t  _ want  _ her right now, that was the problem. If anything, his weekend with Trish had at least proven one thing: that he hadn’t been intrigued by Linka’s suggestion because he was hard up for sex in general. No, he’d been intrigued by Linka’s suggestion because it was Linka, plain and simple.

Which left him in a quandary. Because Linka was his  _ best friend.  _ He loved her in an entirely different way to Trish... didn’t he?

He must have looked puzzled, because Kwame gave him a friendly pat on the back. ‘You look tired, Wheeler,’ he commented pleasantly. ‘You should get to bed.’

Wheeler nodded. ‘Yeah... it felt like a long flight. I could do with some sleep.’

‘Ma-Ti and Linka made stew this evening,’ Kwame gave him a wide grin. ‘In case you fancy a good meal. Or are you still full from all the processed food?’

Wheeler looked up, momentarily confused. Was Kwame still using their analogy from earlier? Was that what Trish was to him... processed food? An easy snack when a real meal would have filled him more adequately?

‘Nah,’ he shook his head quickly. ‘No more food for me. I’m gonna hit the hay. See you in the morning, yeah?’

Kwame nodded. ‘Good night. Sleep well, friend.’

Wheeler nodded, but he doubted his ability to sleep that night, exhausted though he was. With a stretch, he made his way down the hill to his cabin, where he would lie in his bed and think about Linka and wonder exactly what he was going to do with her. There were two options, and neither at that moment seemed palatable to him. Did he go on as they were, friends and nothing more, while torturing himself with sexual frustration for her? Or did he give in and sleep with her, knowing it would be nothing more than a short-term arrangement which would probably kill their friendship in the long run?

With a sigh, Wheeler opened the door to his cabin, throwing his bag to the floor and walking over to his bedside light. Before he had a chance to turn it on though, a low moan floated toward him in the evening air, and he turned to his open window, his mouth suddenly dropping open. 

It was Linka, lying on her bed in her cabin, the soft light of her bedside lamp illuminating her gently. She was biting on her lips, breathing shallowly, her back arched and her knees bent. 

She was beautiful and sexy and she took Wheeler’s breath away. 

More than that, she was touching herself, and moaning with pleasure as she did so too.

***

When they first arrived on Hope Island and were shown to their neighbouring cabins, the windows that overlooked each other’s rooms had been a source of irritation to Wheeler and embarrassment to Linka. He didn’t want the awkward Russian teenager in the cabin next door seeing his every move in the only space on the island that was exclusively his, Wheeler had seethed. He couldn’t walk around naked, he argued, or bring girls over. 

Kwame had tried to appease him, and a curtain was produced for both of their rooms. Linka, blushing, had taken it and used it liberally. She closed her curtains and kept them closed for the next six months, and it was easy for Wheeler to forget she was so close after that. He heard her, of course, the sweet sound of her piano ringing out, or her voice, chatting away in Russian when she spoke on the phone to her friends and family, but he never saw her. 

Later, once they were friends, she started opening her curtains again. They would play games, making faces at each other through the glass, or holding up notes for the other to read. He would mock her for her fastidious tidiness, and she would berate him for his constant mess. Whenever one of his girlfriends came to stay, he would blow a kiss to Linka through the window, and she would roll her eyes back at him, before he closed both the window and the curtains. He didn’t want her seeing or hearing anything untoward, after all. He respected her. He desired her good opinion. 

It never occurred to him that Linka herself would need to close her window or curtains for anything these days though. She told him everything, shared with him all her secrets, and that was the way he liked it. She’d never had a boyfriend, so there was no need for privacy that way either. She was a book that only he could read. She wore a mask that only he could see through. And she had a window to her room he could always look through, whenever he wanted. Sometimes, when they were back from a mission that had gone badly, or saw the havoc that greed and pollution was wreaking upon the planet, Wheeler would sit on his bed, his head in his hands, and stare into her room. He would watch her reading a book, or sitting at her computer, and he would use her presence to pull him from his misery. She grounded him in a way no one else ever had or could. 

She knew he watched her of course, because sometimes she would turn and smile at him, acknowledging his presence, before going about her business as if he weren’t there at all. And when he was ready, he would knock on her door, hug her, and she would hold his hand and ask if he was okay.

‘Yeah,’ he would nod, eased as always by the feeling of her skin next to his. ‘Yeah, I’m okay.’

So, his knee-jerk reaction now, on seeing Linka on her back and in the act of self-pleasure, her curtains and window wide open, was to immediately close his own. To give her the privacy she so clearly assumed she had. He swore under his breath, reaching for his curtain, ready to pull it across, when he stopped.

She would notice if he closed his curtain. Maybe not now, maybe not tonight, but definitely by the morning. So far as Linka knew, he was in New York with Trish. So far as she was aware, his curtains were open as they had been for the last two nights. If she were to look to her left, she would see them closed, and immediately would have known that he had been home, and might have seen her... well,  _ seen her. _

That would probably mortify her. Dropping down, Wheeler crouched on his knees, breathing heavily and debating what to do. How long would it take her to... to  _ finish _ ? He wondered desperately. He could sneak out, but the noise might disturb her. No, his best bet was to cover his ears and cover his eyes and wait it out. Once she was done, and her lights turned down, he would fall into bed and tell her in the morning that he’d arrived home after she was already asleep.

‘I would’ve called in, Babe, but your lights were already out,’ he would lie. 

Yes. That was the plan.

But just as he settled on this option, another low moan carried across the breeze, and Wheeler felt his resolve slip slightly. 

Linka had no idea he was there. He couldn’t do this to her. It wasn’t right.

With a sigh, and a feeling of horrified disbelief settling in his bones, he moved slowly up from the floor and across to his bed. He sat, and, watching Linka through his window, seeing her hand moving across her breast and between her legs, felt his mouth run dry with desire.

_ A real meal,  _ he suddenly thought.

But it would never do. He couldn’t  _ watch  _ her, doing this, without her knowledge. With every movement like agony, he leaned over, reaching for his bedside lamp and flicking it on, light immediately flooding his room. 

Through the window, he saw Linka’s head immediately snap towards him, and their eyes met.

It was strange, thought Wheeler. There was no shock or confusion or horror on Linka’s face, like he had imagined. Instead, she met his gaze and held it, her cheeks flushed, her breathing still shallow. He continued to sit on his bed, looking at her, unable to tear his eyes away from her own. Something passed between them, electric and undeniable, and he inhaled sharply. 

‘ _ Keep going,’  _ he mouthed to her, and he watched as she licked her lips, before her hands once again began to roam over her body. 

Whatever blood pumped through Wheeler’s body immediately headed south, and for a man who’d had as much sex as he had not half a day earlier, he was immediately almost painfully hard. He didn’t move though, didn’t take himself in hand or indulge in any kind of self-pleasure. This was all about her, he realised. She was allowing him to watch her, allowing him to join her in this moment, and he wanted to show her that he respected that. 

And so he sat, his body rock-hard and unmoving, even as his eyes moved hungrily over her. He bit down a groan of frustration that she was still mostly clothed, her fingers moving underneath a thin singlet and pair of shorts, just as he bit down a groan when she closed her eyes, breaking the gaze between them. For some reason, he wanted her looking at him while she did this; wanted her eyes locked on his own when she came. It was a longing almost as strong as the longing to be next to her, to replace her hands and fingers with his. He longed to use his mouth on her, to kiss and caress her. He longed to know how her legs would feel wrapped around his back, just as he longed to know how her hands would feel against his skin.

She opened her eyes again to look at him again, and he gave her a small nod, a brief movement of encouragement. 

‘ _ Take off your shirt,’  _ he mouthed to her, and he half-expected her to stop, to close her window and curtain at his audacity and end this moment between them. But she merely nodded back, sitting up and pulling the fine fabric from her body, throwing it to her floor. She lay back down, her hands this time pulling and pinching at naked flesh, and Wheeler’s resolve melted.

He looked at her, almost imploringly, and relief flooded through him when she gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. He immediately reached into his clothing, stroking himself, watching her with intent eyes and biting down on his lips at the rising surge of pleasure. 

She was so beautiful and sexy, from the smooth planes of her stomach to the dusky pink nipples she intermittently pinched with her long fingers, and Wheeler was so filled with desire for her that he couldn’t believe he’d almost turned her down. 

Because  _ of course  _ he was going to fuck her. Of course he was. Not tonight, and maybe not tomorrow, and maybe not even this week or month, but one day, in the future, he would sleep with Linka and he knew, from watching her right now, that he would enjoy every moment of it. Her eyes were still linked with his, her hand moving almost frantically now. Almost without thinking, his own hand grew rougher and his strokes harder as he watched Linka watching him. He was scared to blink in case he broke the spell that seemed to linger between them, and when she came, her back arching away from her bed, a pink flush breaking out over her skin, his own pleasure rushed over him in a raging force, and he cried out, a hoarse moan ringing out in the evening air.

When it was done, he looked to Linka. She was shivering on her bed, and he felt a typical rise of concern for her within him.  _ She got cold after sex,  _ he thought to himself, already making a mental note for the future. He gave her a wry smile, and a small one pulled at her own lips, before she turned on her bed, pulling a blanket around her shoulders. She switched off her light, and Wheeler exhaled deeply. He cleaned himself up quickly, before turning off his own light. 

He thought he would struggle to sleep, worried he would overthink what had just happened between them. But unexpectedly he felt positive and pleasantly satisfied. He was looking forward, he realised with a smile, to what the next day would bring. 

And as his eyes began to flutter close in sleep, his last waking thought was that he’d just had a taste of something that would definitely fill his appetite. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler: Linka knew he’d come home early. She’s a girl who is going after what she wants for once.


	6. Crumbs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I received a gift in the post today which made me so happy. I was trying to think of a way to say thanks when I remembered I had this chapter nearly finished. So, I spent all day editing and tweaking it. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy.x

When Wheeler awoke, it was with a smile on his face. A stupid, inane, almost ridiculous grin, which spread from cheek to cheek, so wide and genuine his face nearly hurt with it. He rubbed a hand over his eyes, swinging out of bed with a lightness to his step he hadn’t felt for days. 

No, not days.  _ Years. _

He moved to his bathroom, splashing some water on his face and almost laughing at himself in the mirror. In nine years of sexual activity, he’d never before done  _ that  _ with a woman. Why would he? If a woman was naked and willing in his presence, his hands were inevitably going to be on her. It was what came naturally to him. To stop at watching, to restrain himself to not touching, had never even crossed his mind. Sex had always followed something of a pattern for Wheeler, one that served him well and one he’d never needed to doubt. He kissed, he fondled, and then he fucked. It was easy, an infinitely more pleasurable version of rinse, lather and repeat. 

And repeat he did, often and with vigour.

But last night? Last night he’d had an intensely pleasurable sexual experience, and one in which his hands had only been on himself. One in which he’d been invited to share but not partake. One in which he’d been separated from his partner by not just panes of glass but also by two walls. It was, when he considered it, almost unbelievable. It was certainly ridiculous. But unbelievable and ridiculous or not, he’d enjoyed every minute, and couldn’t believe that he’d never tried it before.

Linka had surprised him, he realised. She’d surprised him, and Wheeler, who considered himself worldly and experienced, had thought himself incapable of such a feeling. When he’d considered the arrangement she’d suggested between them, Wheeler had assumed he would be the one doing the teaching, and Linka the learning. That  _ she _ might teach him a trick or two had never occurred to him. But now that it had, the thought sat in his mind intriguingly, a tantalising concept he was more than ready to explore further.

He threw on some clothes before opening his curtain, half hoping to find Linka still in bed, or at least in her room. But she was already gone, her bed tidily made, her room neat as a pin, the window left open to let in the soft island breeze. Momentarily, Wheeler frowned, before shrugging and giving another wide smile. He would find her at breakfast and talk to her then. They could iron out the fine print of their arrangement, and then, later... Wheeler grinned. Never before had the word ‘later’ filled him with such a rush of desire.

But when Wheeler entered the common room, Linka was nowhere to be seen. Kwame and Ma-Ti were there, cooking breakfast, and Ma-Ti slid Wheeler a cup of coffee, doing his best to hide a shudder when Wheeler immediately dumped three sugars into the black liquid. 

‘Where’s Lin?’ Wheeler asked, trying to hide his disappointment. ‘Where’s Gi?’

‘They have gone to pick up Linka’s friend,’ Ma-Ti replied smoothly. ‘The one from her village. He arrives this morning.’

Briefly, Wheeler scowled into his coffee. ‘Oh, yeah, I forgot,’ he muttered, and when he looked up, he noticed Ma-Ti looking at him curiously. ‘What?’ he snapped, and at the sharp tone to his voice he saw Kwame look up and exchange glances with Ma-Ti.

‘I am only wondering how your weekend went, with Trish?’ Ma-Ti replied, his face as serene as ever. 

‘It was fine,’ Wheeler shrugged, sliding into a chair by the table and frowning once more.

_ Gregor,  _ Wheeler thought angrily _.  _ In his excitement, he’d forgotten about him. Well, that was just great. Gregor’s presence would no doubt make getting Linka alone today almost impossible. She would be excited to see her friend, excited to talk in Russian, excited to hear news from home and Wheeler... well, he would be left to sit in the corner, watching on while eaten up with jealousy, an outsider looking in. Scowling again, he took a mouthful of his drink, the hot coffee near enough burning his tongue so that he spluttered unattractively, swearing loudly. 

‘God dammit,’ he swore again, before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. When he opened them again, two pairs of brown eyes were staring at him wordlessly, and Wheeler flushed.

‘Wheeler—?’

‘Hot coffee,’ Wheeler explained, trying to sound nonchalant. ‘If I’ve got any taste buds left after this it’ll be a fuckin’ miracle.’

He saw Kwame’s face change. Kwame, brought up in a well to do part of Nairobi, disliked swearing and could never understand Wheeler’s frequent use of it. 

‘You speak Swahili as well as English?’ Wheeler had once asked him, back in the early days when they were all still getting to know one another, and Kwame had nodded. ‘Well, swearing is my second language,’ Wheeler tried to explain. ‘It was all my Pop spoke in sometimes,’ he’d given a bitter laugh. ‘I’m fluent in the language of asshole.’

Now, Wheeler ran a tired hand over his face. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered. ‘Woke up on the wrong side of the bed is all.’

At these words, Kwame’s face flooded with sudden understanding. ‘Ah yes, you must be tired. You arrived late last night.’

Wheeler saw guilt flash across Ma-Ti’s face. ‘I am sorry we were not there to greet you last night, Wheeler.’

‘Nah, it was late,’ Wheeler shrugged. ‘I wasn’t expectin’ anyone to wait up for me.’

‘Linka tried,’ Kwame said suddenly, turning back to the stove. ‘She waited up as long as she was able to, but, just before you were due to land, she decided to go to bed. Well, we had a long weekend, probably not as...’ Kwame paused, ‘...  _ energetic  _ as yours, but still —’

‘Wait,’ Wheeler sat up. ‘You mean Linka was still up just before I got back?’ 

Something about Kwame’s words, spoken so off-handedly, caught Wheeler’s attention and he stared at Kwame intently. Kwame hardly blinked though, looking back at Wheeler with honest eyes.

‘Yes. She and I stayed up together, going over the speech I am to give for the Green Planet convention in Paris next month. But just as you were coming in to land she suddenly grew tired, and left very quickly.’

A thought, astounding in it's near ridiculousness and just as unpalatable, abruptly struck Wheeler and his mouth gaped open. ‘ _ She played me,’  _ he whispered, almost frozen with shock. ‘ _ She played me.’ _

‘What did you say?’ Ma-Ti’s voice, clear and curious, cut through Wheeler’s momentary quiet and he startled, looking back to Ma-Ti and shaking his head.

‘Nothin’,’ he replied, draining his coffee. His mouth was unaccountably dry; his throat tight. ‘Nothin’ worth repeatin’, that is.’

Ma-Ti nodded, before sliding the coffee pot to Wheeler, who filled his mug to the brim. He dumped another three sugars into his drink, so lost in thought that he did not see Ma-Ti grimace.

‘Wheeler—’ 

‘You know somethin’?’ Wheeler suddenly exploded, banging a fist on the table so hard the crockery rattled, coffee spilling in all directions. ‘I don’t understand women. I don’t get ‘em. Even the ones you think you know... they’re just as... as... as  _ duplicitous  _ as the next one,’ Wheeler’s brow furrowed and his mouth turned into a frown. ‘I’ll never understand ‘em.’

Scowling at his coffee, Wheeler didn’t see as yet another look passed between Kwame and Ma-Ti. With a sigh, Kwame turned off the stove and wiped his hands on his apron, before sitting at the table across from Wheeler, his gaze at once soft and serious.

‘Did something happen this weekend? With Trish?’ he asked kindly, and Wheeler exhaled, long and low.

‘Nah,’ he said, stroking the stubble on his chin. ‘Trish is... well, just the same as always.’

‘So, nothing happened?’ Ma-Ti queried him, resting a hand on his shoulder, and Wheeler shook his head.

‘Nope,’ Wheeler replied. ‘I got there, took her out for dinner—’

‘A date?’ Kwame asked with one raise of an eyebrow. ‘Oh, I did not think that you and Trish were...’ Wheeler watched as discomfort flitted across Kwame’s face. ‘Well, I did not think that she was...  _ that  _ type of girl to you.’

Wheeler took a deep breath. ‘I think she might be now,’ he said, clearing his throat, which still felt too tight. ‘She wants to get serious, and I always said when the time was right I would go along with it.’ He paused. ‘Maybe now the time is right. I’m running outta reasons not to commit to her.’

Next to him, he felt Ma-Ti stiffen, and Wheeler turned to him curiously.

‘What?’

‘Well, it is just...’ Ma-Ti trailed off, clearly hesitant, and Wheeler nodded at him. 

‘Go on,’ he said. ‘You got somethin’ to say? You should say it.’ 

Ma-Ti sighed again. ‘It is just... well, it speaks volumes when you say have to ‘go along’ with something rather than want to do it, Wheeler. And you say you are running out of reasons not to commit to Trish? Well, that also means you have been searching for reasons not to commit to her. I do not like to say this, but I am not sure you truly want to walk this path with her, my friend.’

Silence fell over the room, and Ma-Ti looked down, obviously uncomfortable. 

Wheeler nudged him gently. ‘It’s okay, kid,’ he tried to sound jovial, even though his heart had sunk at Ma-Ti’s words.  _ He was right,  _ Wheeler thought miserably. He gave Ma-Ti a pat on the back. ‘This is why you wear the heart ring, you know? You’re too good at this kinda thing.’

Abruptly, Wheeler stood, and Kwame looked at him in concern.

‘Are you alright, Wheeler?’

‘Yeah,’ Wheeler shrugged. ‘I’m gonna get the day started. Once Gi and Lin get back with  _ Gregor, _ ’ he struggled to keep the bile from his voice, ‘well, they’ll be no good to anyone work-wise. They’ll wanna spend all day fawnin’ over him.’

‘That is not fair,’ Kwame said gently. ‘Neither Gi nor Linka are work shy, Wheeler.’

Instantly, Wheeler felt guilty.

‘You’re right,’ he agreed. ‘I guess what I meant was, if I can take away some of Linka’s workload, she’ll have more time to spend with  _ him. _ ’ Once again, his throat constricted at the thought. He cleared it awkwardly, before turning to Kwame. ‘Any tasks of hers I can help with? You cleared me for today just in case Trish and I— well, I can work instead of Linka.’

Kwame gave him an odd look. ‘That is very generous of you, Wheeler.’

But Wheeler shook his head. ‘Nah, it’s not. It’s the right thing to do,’ he swallowed hard. ‘She’s my best friend after all...isn’t she?’

But even as the words crossed his lips, he heard how shallow they sounded, and he felt his throat tighten once more.

Kwame, watching him, nodded slowly. ‘Linka was on maintenance today. You can take it up, if you really want to?’

Wheeler nodded. Maintenance was good, he decided. It would keep him busy at the hangar. Too busy to do more than get a quick glimpse of Gregor, at any rate. 

He nodded again. ‘Yeah. Maintenance is fine.’

***

Wheeler heard rather than saw Gregor’s arrival. There was that tell-tale quiet thrum of an engine, followed by the geo-cruiser door opening, and Gi’s laughter, high and merry, echoing around the hangar. Wheeler stood, brushing dirt from his jeans, resting an arm against his forehead as he blinked in the midday sun. 

There was Gi, all smiles, her hair pinned prettily away from her face. She was gesturing in the distance, pointing out the details of the hangar. Next to her stood a man, almost as tall as Wheeler, fair-haired and disarmingly attractive. 

_ Gregor.  _ Wheeler did a double take as he took in the handsome man, who was dressed for warm weather in light slacks and a clean cotton shirt. Wheeler looked down at his own jeans, torn and filthy, and at his Planeteer shirt, sweat-stained and lying in a discarded heap to the side. It was a hot day and maintenance was a messy business, and he hadn’t thought twice about stripping off in the midday heat. But now, seeing the clean-cut Gregor, who would no doubt appeal to the fastidiously tidy Linka’s tastes, he was regretting his actions.

‘Wheeler!’ In the distance, Gi had spotted him, and she raised an arm in greeting, pulling Gregor with her towards him.

‘Shit,’ muttered Wheeler under his breath, but he plastered a smile on his face all the same, waving back and trying to look nonchalant.

‘Wheeler, this is Gregor,’ Gi said breezily. ‘Linka’s friend from home?’

‘Sure, yeah, Gregor,’ Wheeler said, extending a friendly hand towards him, although a strong dislike for the man suddenly washed over him. For up close, Gregor was even more handsome than Wheeler had originally thought. His skin was clear, with high cheekbones and a strong jawline, a welcoming smile on his face. His hair was a sandy blond, less golden than Linka’s but still unmistakably European. He was tall and well-built and when he shook Wheeler’s hand it was with a strong grip. It immediately let Wheeler know that Gregor was sure of himself and confident, and he felt a small knot of worry pull in his stomach.

‘Hello, Wheeler,’ Gregor said as he withdrew his hand. ‘I have heard much about you, of course, from Lenka’s letters.’

Wheeler frowned, wiping his hand on his jeans again. ‘You mean Linka,’ he said. ‘Linka’s letters.’

But at that Gregor shook his head, giving Wheeler a confused look. ‘No, I meant Lenka. Who is Linka? I have never heard—’

‘ _ On imeyet v vidu menya, Grisha. Menya zdes' zovut Linka, _ ’ a calm voice suddenly intoned, and there Linka was, emerging from the geo-cruiser and smiling at Gregor pleasantly. 

Wheeler watched as Gregor’s face lit up at her presence, and his fingers involuntarily clenched around the wrench he was holding in his hand.

‘ _ Ty pozvolil im nazyvat' tebya Linka _ ?’ Gregor asked, clearly still confused.

Linka nodded, adjusting the strap of the dress she was wearing, drawing Wheeler’s eyes towards the bare skin of her shoulder.  _ A dress,  _ he thought worriedly.  _ Why was she wearing a dress?  _

Linka never wore dresses. She kicked around in shorts, overalls, and old t-shirts. She wore baseball caps and over large jackets. She never — never, ever — wore dresses, let alone skin tight, paisley blue dresses that clung to every curve like this one. Wheeler stared at her, half aroused, half horrified. 

‘Why’s he callin’ you Lenka?’ he demanded, his voice abrupt and sharp, and Linka looked up, finally meeting his eyes.

‘Because that is my name,’ she replied simply.

‘No, your name is Lena,’ Wheeler said sharply. ‘Shortened to Linka, but—’

‘No,’ Linka shook her head. ‘It is Lenka. It has always been Lenka.’

Wheeler’s mouth opened and closed several times as he digested this information. ‘What do you mean, it’s always been Lenka?’ he asked her. ‘We’ve been callin’ you Linka since you got here, and not once have you ever corrected us. Not one of us,’ he added. ‘Isn’t that right, Gi?’ he turned to their colleague, who was chewing awkwardly on her lip, staring at the floor.

‘Leave me out of this,’ Gi said firmly. ‘I wanted to tell you years ago but—’

‘Tell me what?’ Wheeler snapped. ‘What did you wanna tell me?’

Linka sighed, turning to Gregor. ‘ _ Vy mozhete menya na minutku izvinit'? Mne prosto nuzhno pogovorit' s moim kollegoy zdes _ .’ Wheeler watched as she then turned to Gi, ‘Will you take Gregor to the common room, please? Make him some tea? I will be there shortly.’

Gi nodded, taking Gregor by the hand. ‘Come on,’ Wheeler heard her say as they walked away. ‘You get a great view of the ocean from this way... we keep the landing bay at the top of the island because of the weather, but the view is fantastic and...’

When they were out of earshot, Wheeler snapped towards Linka.

‘What the fuck?’ he asked her, his words unduly harsh. ‘What do you mean, your name has always been Lenka?’

‘Because it is,’ Linka replied, a tired note to her voice. ‘Lena is most always turned into Lenka.’

‘Then why did you call yourself Linka to us? To me?’ Wheeler spluttered. 

‘Well, actually,’ Linka suddenly flushed, her cheeks turning pink. ‘I did not.’

‘You did,’ Wheeler argued. ‘You called yourself Linka, and—’

‘Yankee,’ Linka suddenly reached over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. ‘I called myself Lenka. You mispronounced it, and I did not...’ she paused, looking at him softly. ‘I did not have either the courage, or the heart, to correct you.’

Wheeler stared at her, completely aghast. ‘I’ve been callin’ you by the wrong name,’ he said slowly. ‘All these years, all this time... I’ve been callin’ you by the wrong name.’

‘It does not matter,’ Linka told him, tracing her fingers down from his shoulder to his hand. ‘It has never mattered to me.’

‘It matters to me. Why didn’t you tell me?’ Wheeler asked her, catching her fingers within his own. ‘You should have told me.’

‘Yes,’ Linka agreed. ‘Gi said as much, and Kwame and Ma-Ti too, but it just seemed—’

Wheeler stepped away from her, pulling his hand from hers and running it through his hair. ‘The wrong name,’ he said again, almost mournful. ‘The wrong fuckin’ name.’

Linka stepped towards him, and this time, she laid her hand against his cheek.

‘You call me the right names,’ she told him gently. ‘Just as you are Yankee to me, I am Babe, or Lin, or Linka to you. I like them,’ she added fervently. Wheeler looked down to her, suddenly aware that she was standing incredibly close to him, and that he was half naked, while she was in that dress, with one strap falling down around her shoulder. Gently, he eased it back up, tracing her collar bone as he did so.

‘We gonna talk about last night?’ he asked suddenly, and the change in conversation seemed to surprise Linka, who blinked up at him.

‘Do we need to?’ she asked. ‘It just happened... it was—’

‘It didn’t ‘just happen’. You knew what you were doin’,’ Wheeler interrupted her, shaking his head. He didn’t step away from her though, keeping his hand on her shoulder, sweeping up and over her soft skin. He wasn’t going to stop unless she asked him to, he decided. He liked the way his hand looked against her, liked the way her skin seemed to shiver — even in this heat — as he danced his fingers across her body. ‘You knew exactly what you were doin’, Babe.’

She chewed on her lip, but said nothing. There was no denial. No argument.

Abruptly, Wheeler dropped his wrench, the metal instrument making a loud noise as it hit the floor. Linka didn’t have time to flinch, as Wheeler used both of his hands to hoist her suddenly into the air, before pushing her against the corrugated iron wall of the hangar. His hands rested on the backs of her thighs, squeezing gently, while he pushed himself against her, lust flooding through him. He brought his forehead to hers, enjoying the sensation of hearing her pant slightly beneath him.

‘I like your dress,’ he told her silkily. He narrowed the gap between them, pressing against her harder. He caught Linka’s eye, and she held his gaze, unwavering, but not unaffected.

‘Wheeler, you are... you are...’ she seemed to struggle for the right word, and Wheeler squeezed her thighs again, watching with satisfaction as she shivered once more. ‘You are  _ filthy, _ ’ Linka seemed to settle on, but she made no effort to extricate herself from his arms. ‘You will make me all dirty.’

He squeezed the backs of her thighs again, before drawing his hands further up, so that his fingers just skimmed the lace of her underwear. She shuddered against him, and he gave a victorious smile.

‘I think you wanna get filthy, Babe,’ he whispered confidently. ‘You were playin’ a game with me last night, weren’t you?’ he fingered the lace of her underwear again. ‘Feedin’ time at the zoo, it's called. A game where you throw crumbs in the direction of a hungry beast.’

‘You are not a beast,’ Linka whispered back, but she still held his gaze, and Wheeler liked that, liked how she didn’t falter in his arms. She was feisty, his girl.

‘You want me to be one,’ he replied smoothly. Deftly, he drew both hands up, until they were trapped under the snug confines of her dress and squeezing her buttocks gently. He nudged her legs open, grinding against her and letting her feel how hard he was. ‘You wanna play feedin’ time at the zoo? That’s fine by me,’ he said. Against him, Linka was growing breathless, and Wheeler felt a surge of desire run through him, one that almost overran his last grip on common sense. Regretfully, he peeled away from her.

If he didn’t, he was fairly certain he would fuck her then and there on the hangar floor.

Linka looked up at him with wide green eyes, and Wheeler licked his lips.

‘What happens now?’ Linka asked him softly.

‘You gotta go and play hostess with Gregor,’ Wheeler replied flippantly, turning away from her. 

Behind him, he heard Linka clear her throat.

‘I mean with us... how does feeding time at the zoo end?’

He picked up his wrench, turning back to look at her once more. 

‘Keep throwing crumbs, or you risk your fingers being bitten off,’ he shrugged.

‘And if I do not? Throw crumbs, that is?’

He shrugged again. ‘Starve the beast and he’s likely to swallow you whole.’

Linka stared at him. ‘That sounds like a... how do you phrase it? A no win situation?’

At that, he grinned at her. ‘Feedin’ time at the zoo ain’t about winnin’, Babe,’ he looked her up and down, long and hungrily. ‘It’s about satisfyin’.’

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHY ARE THESE TWO ALWAYS TALKING ABOUT FOOD?
> 
> Let the game playing commence.


	7. Stop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 20,000 words to get to this point is just... embarrassing, isn’t it?
> 
> This is surprisingly slow burn, when I hadn’t intended it to be. 
> 
> Poor old Wheeler is desperately in love with Linka but hasn’t realised it yet, has he?

Twenty minutes into dinner and Wheeler was forced to accept that Gregor was not only an attractive man but also a pleasant one. He smiled in all the right places, asked all the right questions, and genuinely seemed interested in the work of the Planeteers. In vain, Wheeler tried to hate him. In vain, he tried to find fault with his demeanour, searching for a hidden agenda, or even the tiniest scrap of evidence that the Russian had a nefarious plot to hand. But consistently Wheeler came up empty, finding Gregor to be nothing but a charming, industrious, and good-natured man.

It was fucking infuriating.

Also infuriating — wildly so, in fact — was Linka. For all their earlier, somewhat sordid encounter, Linka seemed determined to ignore him, reserving her shy smiles and sideways glances for Gregor and Gregor alone. Every time her eyes so much as strayed to Wheeler, catching his gaze for even the smallest of moments, she would instantly look away, either down to the floor or back to Gregor. Wheeler, undeterred, continued to stare at her sullenly, even when Gi elbowed him in the ribs and asked him for what was apparently the third time to pass the salt.

Linka was flirting with Gregor, Wheeler was almost sure of it. She was still wearing that blue dress, with the strap still falling over one shoulder, leaving her skin bare. She was fluttering her eyelashes, long and dark against the peach of her skin, and biting on her lower lip, pink and plush and infinitely kissable. For a man who — not a week previous — had scarcely allowed himself to think about Linka’s lips, Wheeler suddenly found he couldn’t get them off his mind. Where his best friend Linka once stood, there was now the definite presence of a woman; a woman who was all soft skin and green eyes, with long legs and perfect breasts poured into a skimpy blue dress. Quite frankly, Wheeler couldn’t believe he’d never noticed her before. Certainly, all he seemed capable of now was looking at her, seeing, as if for the first time, all her beauty, grace and downright sexiness.

Yes, Linka had wanted him to notice her and he’d fallen for her bait, caught hook, line and sinker. And now he sat, still caught in her net, while she ignored him in favour of another man.

It was infuriating. It was irritating. But perversely, it was incredibly arousing too, because he knew — from the way she occasionally held his eyes, full of daring and sass — that this was a test, just another move forward in the game he’d unwittingly begun playing with her.

She wasn’t throwing him any crumbs.

She wanted to be swallowed whole.

Abruptly, Wheeler stood, going into the kitchen with his plate. 

‘What?’ Gi asked. She’d been on dinner duty with Ma-Ti, and scanned Wheeler’s half finished plate worriedly. ‘Is there something wrong with the food?’

‘Nope, food’s great,’ Wheeler replied cheerfully. ‘It’s my own fault...’ he trailed off, catching Linka’s gaze and holding it. ‘I had a snack earlier that almost filled me up. Almost.’

Linka blushed, and Wheeler looked at her pointedly. 

‘There’s pie for dessert,’ Ma-Ti offered cheerfully. ‘Would you like some now? I can get it ready for you.’

‘Thanks,’ Wheeler said, without tearing his eyes away from Linka. ‘But not right now.’

‘It is cherry,’ Ma-Ti replied. ‘Are you sure?’

Wheeler stared at Linka for a heartbeat longer than necessary. ‘Well, I do like something tart and tangy on the tongue,’ he remarked, watching as Linka shifted in her seat. ‘But later, maybe.’

Kwame cleared his throat. ‘Honestly, our guest has not even finished his meal and you are already talking of dessert,’ he chastised Wheeler. ‘Come and sit back down, friend, and let Gregor finish his food.’

Wheeler shrugged. ‘Of course. I wouldn’t dream of denying our guest anythin’,’ he said. ‘Just let me get a drink first.’

‘In Russia, you know, it is a tradition to take a cold drink of vodka between courses,’ Gregor offered, and Wheeler grinned. 

‘Is that a fact?’ he asked. ‘Lin, we got vodka in the house at the moment?’

‘You know we do,’ she retorted icily, and Wheeler saw Kwame and Ma-Ti turn to her, surprised by the snap to her voice.

‘Where?’ He asked, though he knew full well where it was kept. He often joined Linka for a quick shot of vodka, and knew exactly where it was stored in the freezer.

Linka shot him a look that was pure daggers. ‘The freezer,’ she said coldly. ‘In the utility room.’ 

‘The utility room?’ Wheeler needled her, scratching his head for effect. ‘Are you sure? I can’t seem to find it.’

‘God, Yankee, you are impossible—’ Linka began, standing and walking into the kitchen. She stalked past him, heading to the back of the kitchen and stepping into the side room where they kept their chest freezer, washing machine and dishwasher. Wheeler quickly followed her, watching as she snapped open the lid, pulling out the frozen bottle and shoving it into his hands. Deftly, before she could leave, Wheeler placed the bottle on the shelf behind him and hauled Linka into his arms. He held her close for a moment, feeling the warmth of her body on his cold hands, before sitting her on top of the washing machine and stepping between her legs. 

‘Didn’t I warn you?’ he whispered into her ear. ‘About not throwin’ crumbs?’

Beneath him, Linka inhaled sharply. 

‘I was not sure,’ she began slowly, ‘if that was a warning, or...’

‘Or?’ Wheeler asked.

Linka blushed. ‘Or a promise.’

He grinned, nuzzling her neck gently. ‘Whatever you want it to be, Babe.’

She sighed at that, her fingers tracing his hips, resting on the hem of his shirt. He nuzzled her again, brushing his lips against her ear. It was a surprisingly tender moment and Wheeler paused, suddenly uncertain as a tremor of affection for her ran through him.

‘Are you sure you really want this?’ he asked, and Linka looked up at him, her fingers stilling on the fabric of his shirt. 

‘Do you?’ she returned, her voice tremulous.

‘I wasn’t,’ he answered honestly. ‘I wasn’t sure at all. But this isn’t about what I want, Babe. It’s about what you want.’

Linka continued to stare up at him. ‘Why were you not sure?’ she queried him, her green eyes wide and almost glowing in the muted light of the utility room.

Wheeler sighed. ‘Because I love you, Lin.’

Linka’s eyes grew wider. ‘Wheeler—’

Wheeler swore under his breath. ‘Not like that, Babe. I didn’t mean I...’ he sighed, pushing his hands into her hair and running his fingers through her tresses. ‘I mean, you’re my best friend, and I don’t wanna do anythin’ to jeopardise that.’

‘We can put our friendship to the side,’ Linka suggested, and Wheeler nodded, although her words did little to push away the small knot of worry that had begun to build in his stomach. ‘Besides, we only have to... well, it would just be one time,’ she added, and the knot grew bigger, so much so that Wheeler had to take a deep breath.

‘One time?’ he repeated.

‘Yes,’ Linka replied, her voice suddenly confident and sure. ‘One time will be sufficient to... well—’

With a growl, Wheeler pulled sharply on Linka’s hair, so that her head tilted backwards, exposing her lips and throat to him. ‘What’s with you and Gregor out there?’ he demanded, and Linka’s eyelashes fluttered on her cheeks.  _ She was enjoying this,  _ Wheeler realised.  _ She liked it when he played the hungry beast with her. _

‘He is a friend,’ Linka said simply, but Wheeler could read her better than anyone, and he heard the lilt to her voice.

‘But you’d like him to be more,’ he remarked coldly. He gave a bitter laugh. ‘Lemme guess... you want me to deflower you so he can enjoy nibbling on the stalk afterwards?’

At that, Linka pushed against him, trying to struggle out of his arms, but Wheeler held on to her firmly. ‘Always one step ahead of the rest of us, aren’t you Babe?’ he whispered, stroking his hand down from her hair to her shoulder, pushing that infernally slipping strap back up. He allowed his hand to linger on her skin, drifting downwards this time, skirting gently over the curve of her breast. Linka’s eyes softly closed and she relaxed into his caress. ‘Plottin’ and plannin’ it all, hey?’ Wheeler carried on, enjoying the feel of her against him, just as he enjoyed the breathy sighs coming from her mouth. ‘You set me up, Lin. Planted a thought in my mind and then encouraged it to grow. You set me up.’

Wheeler couldn’t help the admiration that seeped into his voice, just as he couldn’t help himself from pressing his fingers down a little more firmly, searching out the small bud of her nipple through the fabric of her dress. When he found it, Linka gave a small moan, and desire rippled through Wheeler strongly.

_ Fuck it,  _ Wheeler decided. He wanted her.

‘I’m not angry at you,’ he shook his head. ‘Because you know what? I’ve decided I’m gonna enjoy this. And you know what else? If we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do it my way.’

‘Your way?’ whispered Linka, her hands moving across his shirt again.

‘Yeah,’ Wheeler confirmed. ‘My way. Don’t worry,’ he added as an afterthought. ‘You’re gonna enjoy it.’

She was clever, his girl. And witty too. So, Wheeler waited for a barbed response, or some other form of the repartee Linka normally used to deflect and distract. But instead, she gazed at him, nodding slowly and licking her lips.

‘Your way,’ she agreed softly. ‘I trust you, Yankee.’

Wheeler stared at her, suddenly floored.  _ She trusted him.  _ Linka spoke honestly, without any guile or game-playing, and something inside of Wheeler warmed at her words. He knew enough about Linka to understand that she never gave trust easily, that it was an honour she bestowed rarely upon a chosen few. That she trusted him with her mind and now also her body made him feel oddly proud, and the knot of worry in his stomach transformed into a knot of longing. Gently, he ran a finger down her cheek, marvelling at the softness of her skin. He looked into her eyes, only to find hers watching him intently. His face was inches from hers, and he knew, without a doubt, that he was going to kiss her, and kiss her hard. And from the look in Linka’s eyes, she knew it too.

‘Tell me to stop,’ he begged suddenly, his voice quiet and pained.

‘Why?’ She asked. ‘Do you not want to kiss me?’

‘Yeah, I do,’ Wheeler answered. ‘More than anythin’. But I don’t want our first kiss to be like this, Babe. Tell me to stop.’

The romantic sentiment surprised him almost as much as it seemed to surprise her, and that small knot of worry — akin to feeling like he was taking a bite of something too big to chew — washed over him again. But Linka simply nodded once more, moving her hand to his face and holding her palm to his cheek.

‘Stop,’ she whispered back, and he nodded, stepping away from her. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, before offering it to Linka, helping her down from the washing machine. Wordlessly, she picked up the thawing bottle of vodka, walking away from him and back into the light of the kitchen. Wheeler followed her, immediately finding Gi’s eyes resting on him curiously.

‘We thought the two of you had got lost,’ Kwame remarked cheerfully, and Linka gave a high and entirely false laugh.

‘We were waylaid by baseball,’ she said, opening the vodka and filling glasses at the table. ‘The Orioles played this weekend.’

‘Did they win?’ Ma-Ti asked, his eyes on Wheeler, and Wheeler shrugged.

‘Nah, they never do,’ he said, tipping the vodka in his freshly filled glass down his throat. ‘They’re a terrible team. Gotta get you on to a better team, Babe.’

Linka shrugged back, drinking her own vodka. ‘You know me, Yankee. When I am set upon something, I find it very hard to give up. Besides, the Orioles play the Dodgers next. Perhaps luck will be on my side.’

At that, Wheeler met her eyes and held it. He was thinking of their moment in the utility room, and he suspected she was too.

‘You’re right,’ he told her smoothly. ‘You know, I gotta feelin’ you might get lucky this week, Babe.’

Gregor, who had a vodka in his own hand, looked from Linka to Wheeler and back in confusion.

‘ _ Ty sledish' za Amerikanskim beysbolom, Lenka?’ _

Wheeler felt a flare of irritation run through him.

‘Yeah, she does,’ he answered sharply, and Gregor looked at him in surprise.

‘You speak Russian?’ he asked, and Wheeler shrugged.

‘Some.’

‘Russian is not an easy language to learn,’ Gregor replied. ‘You must be a man for languages.’

‘Not really,’ Wheeler replied, suddenly embarrassed. ‘It’s just, you know, from spendin’ time with Lin.’

‘Funny that,’ Gi interjected. ‘You never learned any Korean from me. Or any Swahili from Kwame. Or any...’ Gi gestured to Ma-Ti. ‘Any, umm...’

‘Tucanoan,’ Ma-Ti replied easily, without offence. ‘But if Wheeler should ever want to learn, I am more than happy to help him. There are only five thousand speakers left of my language. If Wheeler decides to pick it up, he will be five thousand and one.’ Ma-Ti gave Wheeler a sideways glance. ‘Of course, Wheeler only picks up languages he can romance the ladies in, so Tucanoan may not be his best option.’

Ma-Ti gave Wheeler a wide grin, and Wheeler grinned back, although he made a mental note to get back at the little punk later for that remark.

‘Not an entirely fair thing to say, buddy,’ Wheeler replied. ‘Russian is the only language I’ve ever learnt more than a handful of words in, and that’s all thanks to Lin.’

He gave Linka a warm smile, but she did not return it. Her eyes were resting on Gregor again, and Wheeler felt a dart of irritation. The more he saw Linka interact with Gregor, the more certain he was that she shared a history with him. When had they started writing to one another? Wheeler asked himself. How close had they been before Linka had joined the Planeteers?

Next to him, Gi gave a disbelieving laugh. ‘Hah,’ she smirked. ‘Don’t think we don’t all remember you simpering in fluent French at... what was her name? Odette? Aurora?’

‘Aurelia,’ Wheeler replied, his cheeks dusting red. 

‘Yes,’ Kwame said, sitting up. ‘You also learned a little Chinese for Xin-Nan. And Hebrew for Elisha.’

‘And Portuguese for Maria,’ Ma-Ti chipped in.

Wheeler saw Gregor laugh. ‘Maybe you are a man for languages after all, Wheeler.’

Wheeler opened his mouth to reply, but Linka abruptly stood, gathering plates from the table. ‘He is a man for the ladies,’ she snapped. ‘And he forgets their language as quickly as he forgets them, by all accounts.’

An icy silence fell over the room, and Wheeler clenched his fists under the table, suddenly angry.

On the other side of the table, Kwame cleared his throat. ‘Leave the dishes, Linka,’ he said. ‘I will do them this evening. Why don’t you take your friend for a walk along the beach while Ma-Ti heats up the pie for dessert?’

‘Yes,’ Linka agreed, throwing down a dish towel. ‘Thank you Kwame.’ 

Wheeler watched as she walked over to Gregor, pulling on his hand and leading him to the door.

‘Lin—’ he began, but it was too late. 

Linka and Gregor had already walked out in the starry night, and he was left at the table, his mouth open, while Gi, Kwame and Ma-Ti looked on awkwardly.

***

Seven restless hours later, and Wheeler had reached the limits of his self-control. Throwing off his bed covers, he stood, throwing on a pair of sweats and a jacket and marching to Linka’s hut. He banged hard on the door, not giving a shit if Gi or Kwame or Ma-Ti or even  _ Gregor  _ overheard. 

Or maybe Gregor wouldn’t overhear. Maybe he was with her still. It was entirely possible that Linka had decided Wheeler wasn’t worth her efforts after all, and had moved on to Gregor with his European good looks, cultured background and sharp intelligence. 

Wheeler scowled, banging on her door even harder. 

They hadn’t returned for any cherry pie. Linka had disappeared with Gregor down the beach, and neither of them had been seen again that evening. Ma-Ti had frowned, before carefully saving two slices of pie, while Gi had gone to bed with a smirk on her face at Wheeler’s silent fury. Kwame meanwhile, with gentle empathy written into the features of his face, had patted Wheeler on the back.

‘I don’t know what is going on with you and Linka,’ he had said slowly. ‘But she should not have spoken about you that way.’

‘It was the truth though, wasn’t it?’ Wheeler replied, staring sullenly into the remains of his pie. ‘She didn’t say anythin’ that wasn’t true.’

‘Maybe so,’ Kwame had nodded. ‘But it was not her place to speak. What we do in our private time, with our own lives — when we get the chance — is our own business.’

Ma-Ti, returning from the utility room, touched the ring on his finger gingerly. ‘I have been sensing confusion from Linka recently. Perhaps one of us should talk to her.’

‘She has  _ Gregor  _ here,’ Wheeler said bitterly. ‘None of us will get closer to her with that creep around.’

Wheeler saw Kwame and Ma-Ti exchange glances. 

‘Gregor seems very personable to me,’ Kwame said slowly. ‘Perhaps tomorrow, you can spend some time with him. He might improve on you.’

Wheeler tried his best not to roll his eyes, and Kwame sighed tiredly.

‘I am going to go to bed,’ he told Wheeler and Ma-Ti. ‘Sam said he would call me tonight after he got home from work.’

‘Say hi to him for us,’ Ma-Ti offered, and Kwame nodded, before heading down the beach.

Abruptly, Ma-Ti turned to Wheeler. ‘I have sensed confusion from you too, Wheeler,’ he stopped, looking at Wheeler keenly. ‘This last week... the feelings from you and Linka have been... well,  _ the same. _ ’

‘So?’ Wheeler asked, giving a nonchalant shrug.

‘So,’ Ma-Ti cleared his throat. ‘So, whatever is going on with the two of you... well, I think you are on the same page. I do not know if that helps you or not, with whatever is going on. But I thought you should know.’

It didn’t help. Not then, and not now, while Wheeler thundered on Linka’s door.  _ The same fucking page. Really?  _ Anger flowed through him like fiery lava, and he felt another rise of it, spurring him on. 

He was going to have it out with her. Linka had stepped too far, and all night Wheeler had lain in bed, getting angrier and angrier as he recalled Linka’s parting words to him. It had been a cheap shot, and one she knew would get under his skin. There was, for all Wheeler’s bluster, a degree of shame in how he dealt with women. He was young and his life was busy, and he took comfort in the brief but pleasant relationships he had with the women he met through the course of his job. Wheeler liked women. He liked talking with them, he liked being with them, but most of all he liked sleeping with them. Sex was a sure-fire way of calming him down, of taking the edge off of a life that quite frequently courted danger and risk. Would he have liked a steady girlfriend? Sure, of course. If he ever met the right girl, that would be great. But he hadn’t, and so he went from girl to girl, always faithful to the one he was with even if he was always looking over his shoulder for the next one. The right one maybe.

Linka knew that Wheeler was uncomfortable with his chequered romantic history. Knew that there was always lingering guilt for the girls he’d forgotten to call back, or gradually let slip away. She knew this and yet she’d still chosen to needle him about it, and in front of her would-be boyfriend too. Wheeler was not just angry, he was fucking livid.

After a few minutes, it became apparent that Linka was not in her cabin, and Wheeler swallowed heavily, realising that this must mean she was with Gregor. Had she slept with him? Probably. It was something she’d been determined to do, and if he knew Linka as well as he did, she would have jumped at the first opportunity to check it off her ‘to do’ list. 

_ Fucking A-types.  _ Wheeler scowled as he turned away from Linka’s door, running a hand through his hair and debating on what to do next. Knocking on the door to the guest cabin certainly appealed, but what would he say when Gregor opened the door?  _ Sorry, there’s been an error, you just fucked my best friend and I was supposed to do that first. Hope you understand.  _ Wheeler cringed. No. He couldn’t do that.

The best course of action was to go back to his cabin and try and get in a few hours of sleep before morning. Already the sky was streaked with light purple, the orange of the sun a half hour from rising, birds calling noisily in the distance. But Wheeler knew he wouldn’t sleep, knew that he would return to his bed and toss and turn as he had done all night. With a sigh, he turned towards the beach, hoping a walk along the sand would calm his fractured mind and soul, piecing them back together. Wheeler shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked at a pace, kicking occasionally at the sand at his feet and feeling, as he always did, that lull of peace wash over him as the waves crashed against the shore. For ten minutes, he blindly walked, hardly noticing his surroundings but feeling calmed by both the landscape and exercise. 

The sun began to crest over the ocean, and Wheeler looked up, taking a deep lungful of the sea breeze. It was then, with the first rays of the sun lighting the golden tones to her hair, that he saw her. Linka, alone and sitting by the palm trees, her head resting on her bent knees, staring at him. 

Wheeler took another deep breath, but he didn’t move. For a moment, he simply stared back at her, feeling another rise of his indignant fury from the night before. Now was his chance, he realised. Now was his moment to thrash it out with her, to yell and berate and indulge in his anger, away from the other Planeteers and Gregor.

His mind made up, he purposefully strode up to her, opening his mouth to begin his tirade. But he stopped when he looked down to see tears stinging Linka’s eyes, and she chewed on her lip sadly. He dropped to his knees in front of her, reaching over to cup her face in his hands. Behind him, he could hear the roar of the ocean, while above came the sound of the birds singing in the trees. He stroked Linka’s cheeks gently, before a splash of colour in the tree above them caught his eyes. He glanced up, Linka’s eyes following the direction of his.

_ A Bahamas Oriole,  _ he realised. The bird that had brought them together all those years ago. He couldn’t help the smile that drifted over his face, and when he looked back down, he saw that Linka was smiling too. He stroked his fingers over her lips, tracing the gentle curve of her happiness. Her eyes were bright, lit by the rising sun behind him, and focused only on him.

‘Tell me to stop,’ he whispered, but this time Linka shook her head.

‘No.’

It was all the invitation he needed. Leaning towards her, he brought his lips to hers, feeling their softness and warmth beneath his own. After that brief touch he pulled away, looking into her eyes, wanting — no, needing — to know if she was okay. 

‘Tell me to stop,’ he asked again, but Linka shook her head once more.

‘No.’

Once again he leaned forward, and once again he kissed her. 

And this time, he didn’t stop. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wheeler lays down some ground rules next chapter. 
> 
> Linka tries very hard to break them.


	8. Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter count crept up again, didn’t it? It’s like an illness I have.
> 
> I’m still debating whether this is an endgame Linka and Wheeler Fic, or just a genuine friends with benefits arrangement.
> 
> Let’s see where they take me.

In all of his fantasies of Linka, kissing had never really played a starring role for Wheeler. It wasn’t that he hadn’t ever thought about it, for he enjoyed kissing and the unique pleasure of pressing his lips against those of an attractive woman. But for Wheeler, guilt ridden and indulging in what he’d thought was a taboo moment, kissing wasn’t something he considered worth dwelling upon. Instead, he’d concentrated his guilty and hurried thoughts on Linka’s legs, her breasts, and on the creamy velvet of her skin. Her lips had been bypassed, ignored in favour of other areas that brought Wheeler quicker gratification and thus freedom from what he always imagined to be a shameful moment of weakness.

But now, with her lips pressed against his and his tongue sweeping gently into her mouth, Wheeler knew kissing Linka would play not just a starring role but near enough the leading part in any future fantasies of her. As he kissed her intently, pushing her back so that she lay in the cool sand, draping himself above her, his mind emptied of all but two thoughts: how amazing this felt, and why the fuck hadn’t he tried it before? 

Linka tasted of salt and coconut, a curious mix of savoury and sweet that made Wheeler moan with pleasure. Her lips were soft and her mouth was warm, and he felt her shiver underneath him as he deepened the kiss, her hands reaching up and into his hair. He broke the kiss to run his lips over her cheek, before nibbling gently on her shoulder. 

“Mmm,” Linka made a noise of approval, and Wheeler pulled away from running his mouth over her skin to gaze into her eyes. They were hazy and soft, the colour of the ocean on an early spring day, and it took his breath away to look at them.

“Babe,” he whispered, and watched as Linka licked her lips. She pulled his head back to hers, and Wheeler felt his eyes flutter closed as his mouth met hers once more. 

It was almost disheartening to realise just how staggeringly good this kiss was. In a way, if kissing Linka had been at all awkward or disappointing, Wheeler could’ve pulled away and moved on, content in the knowledge that they were friends who just didn’t work like that. They could have put all this sex talk behind them and both gone forward, knowing they’d tried but just weren’t meant to be.

But this kiss wasn’t at all awkward. This kiss wasn’t at all disappointing. This kiss, Wheeler suddenly realised, was probably the best of his life. And that thought, coupled with the growing arousal he knew he could do little to hide, made him sit up and wrench himself away from her, panting slightly as he sat back and ran a shaky hand through his hair.

Linka sat up too, watching him with concerned eyes.

“Yankee, are you alright?” She asked him, her voice soft but fretful. He gazed at her in return, nodding slowly.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Look, it’s just that—”

“You did not enjoy it,” Linka decided blankly. “I am... what is the word I need? Inexperienced. I am inexperienced and you did not like kissing me.”

Wheeler stared at her in amazement. “What? No. Tell me somethin’, Lin,” he asked her slowly. “Did you think that was a bad kiss?”

Linka looked down, her fingers running across the sand, the grains shifting beneath them. “No,” she admitted, blushing slightly. “But then, I have no basis for comparison. Not really.” She looked up and met his steady gaze. “Not like you.”

Wheeler swallowed, keeping his eyes locked with hers. “I don’t need any comparison to know that we just shared an amazing kiss, babe,” he told her honestly. “It was good. So good, in fact, that it’s takin’ all of my resolve not to haul you over my shoulders, take you back to my cabin and have my way with you right now.”

Linka chewed on her lip. “Well, Umm, why don’t you?” She asked quietly, her cheeks pink, and Wheeler sighed.

“That’s not what I want for us, babe.”

Linka stared at him, her eyes almost accusing. “You keep saying that,” she murmured. “Keep telling me that you do not want something for us. Why? What is going through your mind, Yankee?”

Wheeler exhaled, long and hard, before he reached for Linka’s hand. There were still grains of sand clinging to her skin and he brushed them off gently, before bringing her fingers to his mouth and kissing them tenderly.

“This is me safeguarding our friendship,” he admitted. “I don’t want to lose that, when all this is over and done with. When you look back on this, I want it to be a positive memory. I want you to think back on our time together like... like  _ this, _ ” he squeezed her hand to emphasise his meaning, “as a happy period in your life. So, I’m not gonna treat you like some cheap or easy—”

“Conquest?” Linka asked warily, and Wheeler groaned.

“No, no, no,” he reassured her. “I don’t think that way. I just meant... I’m gonna treat you right, Lin. I promise.”

For a moment, Linka’s eyes lingered on where her hand rested within his, and she curled her fingers within his grasp, stroking the sensitive skin of his palm. He shivered with pleasure and he saw her give a small smile.

“You like it? When I touch you there?” she asked.

Wheeler nodded, his mouth suddenly dry. “Yeah.”

She stroked his palm again, seemingly lost in thought. Finally, she looked up at him, her eyes bright and clear. “I trust you, Yankee,” she said slowly. “You do not have to promise me anything... I know you will treat me right. That is one of the reasons I came to you.”

“One of the reasons?” 

She blushed. “Umm, you are also, quite, umm...” she trailed off, her cheeks aflame, and Wheeler grinned.

“Lin?”

He watched as she took a deep breath. “You are also quite, umm, attractive to me.”

Something inside of Wheeler leapt at her words, although he pushed it down forcefully, determined to remain cool and collected. “Am I?” he asked blandly. “You never said anythin’ before, or gave any impression of that.”

“You have noticed me?” Linka asked, chewing on her lip and giving away an uncharacteristic uncertainty. It was so innocent, and so charming, that his heart swelled with affection for her. 

“You know I have,” he said. “You’re beautiful, Lin. And a man would have to be an idiot not to see that.”

She shrugged, seemingly unaffected by his praise, although he felt her hand tremble within his. “Well, I have noticed you too,” she told him. “And I liked what I saw. I  _ still  _ like what I see,” she clarified. 

Unaccountably, Wheeler’s heart began to beat faster within his chest. “We’re really gonna do this, aren’t we?” he whispered.

“I hope so,” she answered softly. “I want you, and if you want me too—”

Before she’d even finished her words he pulled her back to him, hauling her into his lap and pushing his hands into her hair. He tilted her head back, kissing her hard, and felt a warm surge of passion run through him when she opened her mouth and kissed him in return. There was a new fervour to his kissing, almost determination in a way, and when he trailed a finger from her hair to her neck and then traced her spine to the small of her back he felt her writhe slightly above him. 

“You like it? When I touch you there?” he broke away to ask, echoing her earlier words, and she nodded rapidly, before cupping his cheeks within her hands and bringing his mouth back to hers. Emboldened, Wheeler brought one hand to her waist, holding her in place, while using the other to reach forward and cup a breast. She cried out, the sound muffled by his lips, but he relentlessly carried on, flicking a finger over the small bud of her nipple through her clothing, teasing and pleasing her all at once. She was breathless and warm in his arms, and he was aroused beyond measure by the thought of her. 

“Lin,” he murmured, pulling his mouth from hers and groaning when she shifted within his lap, ripples of pleasure rushing through him as she put movement and pressure where he needed it most. “Lin,” he tried again, taking a deep breath and trying to bring clarity back to his mind. “Not here, okay? Not here.”

At his words she stopped, pulling away from him slightly and looking into his eyes. Her skin was flushed, her lips were swollen and pink, and it was so sexy that Wheeler couldn’t help himself from claiming them once more, kissing her hard. She laughed, pulling back from him and pushing his hands away from her skin.

“No, you are right,” she agreed. “Not here.”

He reached for her again, pressing his lips to hers and cupping her breast once more. “Fuck it,” he murmured, before dropping his mouth to her shoulder and biting gently into the soft nape of skin. “Don’t listen to me. I’m an idiot. Here is fine.”

She smiled, dropping her head back and giving him further access to her neck and shoulders. “We do not have time—”

“Trust me, the way I’m feelin’, this won’t take long.”

She laughed at that, pushing him away and coming to a stand. “No, not here,” she said again firmly, dusting the sand from her legs. “Later.”

“When?” he asked, looking up at her. He didn’t mean to sound impatient, or demanding, but he feared it sounded that way. Frustrated with himself, he ran a hand through his hair and stood, taking a deep breath. “Sorry,” he apologised. “I don’t want to put any pressure on you.”

But Linka only smiled at him. “Tonight. After dinner,” she decided. “I will come to your cabin after I have spent some time with Gregor.”

It was like the sun dipping behind a cloud, how cold Wheeler’s skin seemed to turn. He scowled, kicking at the sand at his feet. “Right. Gregor.”

Linka frowned. “He is a good man, Wheeler.”

“Are you in love with him?”

It wasn’t a question he had intended to ask, but the words fell from his mouth, direct and unfiltered from his mind, and sat like a stone between them. He watched Linka cross her arms across her chest and chew on her lip, and the cold he had felt just moments before turned into an ice that travelled up his spine.  _ She was considering his question,  _ Wheeler realised. There wasn’t a laugh, or an instant ‘no’. There was no pause, followed by a snap for him to mind his own business. Instead, she was giving thought to the idea, weighing it up in her mind and coming to a conclusion.  _ She’s in love with him,  _ Wheeler realised, a sick feeling settling in his stomach.  _ She would’ve said ‘no’ by now if she wasn’t. _

“Gregor and I... we grew up in the same town,” Linka explained, staring off at the horizon, squinting in the now strong morning sun. “He and I were friends growing up, and I have always admired him. When we went to high school, he was so popular with all the girls — you have seen for yourself how handsome and clever he is,” Linka added, turning back to Wheeler with a soft smile. “For years, I suppose I had what you would call a...” she frowned slightly. “I do not know the right phrase, in English. I have, umm, it means  _ uvlech'sya _ ...” she frowned again, and Wheeler took her hand, leading her down the beach and back towards their cabins. 

“Describe it for me, what you mean,” he said. “Talk while you walk; it will help.”

Linka nodded, keeping her hand, small and warm and perfectly fitted to his, within his grasp. “It was bittersweet, my affection for Gregor... Grisha, I called him. He was Grigori back then, before he moved to Paris—”

“Wait, what do you mean, he moved to Paris?” Wheeler asked.

Linka stopped, giving him a wry smile. “Did you not listen to a thing he said at dinner last night, Wheeler?”

Wheeler shrugged unapologetically. “Sorry. I was too busy thinkin’ up ways to get you alone.”

“ _ Bozhe Moy,”  _ Linka exhaled, shaking her head at him. “Well, Gregor lives in Paris now. He is from my hometown, but he studies in Paris, at the University. He is a PHD candidate in third-world Economics.”

There it was again, that slightly sick feeling in Wheeler’s stomach. “Third world economics, hey?” He swallowed heavily. “He must be pretty smart then, right?”

“Yes,” Linka nodded enthusiastically. “He is very clever. He was always head of the class—”

“What, even over you?” Wheeler asked in disbelief.

Linka blushed. “Well, no,” she admitted, “but he was older than me, so in a different year and anyway, he always seemed so...” she trailed away, her blush deepening. “I liked him, Wheeler. He was so handsome, so witty, so clever. I liked him very much. I do not love him, to answer your question, I never have. But I do like him.”

“Sounds like a crush,” Wheeler remarked blithely, even while inside his stomach turned over. He felt oddly crushed himself, and he couldn’t explain why.

“A crush, yes,” Linka nodded slowly. “That is what I meant. There is no word for that in Russian... but yes, I had a crush on him. He never, umm, recepticled it though.”

“You mean reciprocated,” Wheeler muttered. He stopped, taking a deep breath. “Look, Lin, I saw the way that guy was lookin’ at you yesterday. Maybe he didn’t return your crush when you were growin’ up, but now? I think you’ve got a chance there, Babe.”

She turned to him, looking at him keenly. “You really think so?”

“Yeah,” he replied, swallowing down his growing nausea. “Babe, maybe we shouldn’t...” he paused. “Maybe we shouldn’t,” he repeated softly, unable to find the words.

Linka stared at him. “I thought you wanted to.”

“I do,” he replied quickly. “I really do. But your first time... it should be special, and with someone you love, Babe. If you and Gregor can find a way to make it work...”

Linka leaned forward, pressing her lips to his once more. Her kiss was soft, sweet and tender, and Wheeler closed his eyes, letting her scent drift over him and allowing himself to be washed away with the moment.

“You said yesterday you loved me,” she whispered. “You are my best friend, Yankee, and I love you too. It will be special,” she promised him. 

He nodded, temporarily rendered mute by both her words and lips.

“Besides,” she suddenly added. “With Gregor, I have a crush, but with you...” she gave a shy smile. “I have chemistry. There is something there between us, something I think worth exploring. Please do not change your mind.”

He shook his head, kissing her once more. “My cabin,” he muttered. “Tonight.”

***

Wheeler lay on his bed, ignoring for the second time a flashing message on his phone. It was Trish, trying to set up a get together between them. Momentarily, Wheeler felt a flash of guilt. He liked Trish, he liked her a lot. She was good company, good in bed, and long term, he had a feeling they’d end up together. So, why was he treating her so terribly now? Why had he used her so badly this past weekend, only to ignore her completely two days later?

He knew why, though.  _ Linka.  _

Linka had gotten under his skin and into his head, and Wheeler knew — he just knew — he had to see what happened between them. She’d been right, earlier, when she’d told him they had chemistry. They did have chemistry, strong and undeniable, and yes, they needed to explore that. Maybe once they had, he could move on with Trish and she could move on with Gregor, and —

Wheeler paused, running a hand tiredly over his eyes. For some reason, neither his mind nor body seemed to like that train of thought, and he was confused as to why.

It wasn’t like he was in love with Linka or anything, he told himself firmly. She was his best friend, he adored her and loved spending time with her, but the heart-wrenching ache of love,  _ actual  _ love, was missing. So, why was he feeling like this? Why did thoughts of her with anyone else bother him? Why did he guard her affection in such a jealous fashion? 

Frustrated, Wheeler stood, reaching up to turn on his ceiling fan. It was a hot, humid night, and a sheen of perspiration clung to his skin. He briefly considered taking a shower, but he’d had one already that morning, and he didn’t like to waste water. So, he instead stripped his shirt from his body, throwing it into the pile of laundry in the corner, before collapsing back onto his bed, watching the fan’s blades slowly rotate above him. He pushed down a throb of excitement that Linka would soon be there, that she might lie beside him on his bed and let him kiss her again like he had that morning, only this time — this time — there would be no ‘later’ or ‘not here’. There would just be them, and privacy, and the muted light of late evening. It was a delicious thought.

He’d hardly had any time with her at all during the day. After their hazy morning kisses, she’d gone to meet Gregor for breakfast before taking him on a tour of Hope Island and their facility. Wheeler had gone to work as always, spending some time with Gi down by the reef before meeting up with the others for an outside late lunch. Linka had been there with Gregor, and Wheeler had watched with building resentment as the two smiled and talked quietly together. While Wheeler ate quietly, Gregor told them all about his postdoctoral ideas, including an intricate plan to end corruption in third world African nations that Kwame had listened to intently.

“African nations have tried for many years to end the corruption that is rife on the continent,” he said gently. “It is a difficult and ambitious plan, Gregor.”

“I could sit back and do nothing,” Gregor replied seriously. “Or I could try. I hope for success, Kwame, but I do not expect it. But I must try. It is the right thing to do.”

Wheeler watched enviously as Linka gazed at Gregor with stars in her eyes. She was enamoured with him, Wheeler realised. And Gregor’s kind-heartedness, added to his ambitious plans for improving the world, made him more than worthy of her. Wheeler shifted his food around his plate, before standing and heading for the kitchen. For a moment he stood by the sink, feeling lost and uncertain, before the rest of the Planeteers joined him. Gi suggested an afternoon swim, and the rest agreed instantly, though Wheeler shook his head.

“Wanna finish up on the maintenance work I started yesterday,” he explained himself. “I’ll swim later.”

As Linka walked past him in the kitchen, ostensibly to get a glass of water, Wheeler momentarily laid a hand on the small of her back. It was brief, a small moment of warmth between them, but he felt her inhale sharply, turning to him with a curious look in her eyes.

“Later,” she’d whispered, before walking away.

Well, later was now.

He must have drowsed in the evening heat, because a sudden knock on his door made him jump, and he sat up dazedly, running a hand through his hair. His door opened and closed, and there she stood, wrapped in the Orioles jacket he’d bought for her the year before, her hair damp and curling at the end.

She fingered her hair awkwardly, looking over at him with shy eyes. “I just took a shower,” she explained. “It is still wet.”

Wheeler stood without saying a word, walking over to her. For a moment he stared down at her and she stared back up. There was a heaviness in the air, desire mingling with the heat and a sense of anticipation, that sat upon their skin. Wheeler saw Linka swallow, and he smiled at her, before reaching over her shoulder and locking the door.

Already bare-chested himself, he tugged at the jacket she clutched to her chest, and Linka swallowed again as she allowed him to open it, peeling it from both her hands and shoulders and letting it slide to the floor. 

She was in a white singlet and a matching pair of shorts, and he took a moment to gaze at her appreciatively. Her skin was shower-damp, her vest clinging to her skin in translucent patches, and he inhaled deeply as he traced a finger over the curve of her chest. 

“Look at you,” he murmured, as he allowed a finger to trace the outline of a nipple. “Throwin’ crumbs.”

She gave a nervous smile and he pulled her towards him, nuzzling her neck and hugging her against him. “Relax,” he whispered into her ear. “I’m not gonna hurt you, okay? And tonight... tonight we’re only gonna do two things.”

“Two things?” Linka asked, her voice high and unnaturally stilted. 

“Yeah,” he smiled at her. “We’re gonna kiss, and we’re gonna talk about the rules.” 

  
  


  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’re going to enter into a sex only arrangement with a friend you’re going to need rules, okay? Wheeler is talking common sense lol.


End file.
